Legerdemain
by Duessa
Summary: Enemies are rising - enemies that should not be among the living. What mysteries will the Cullens need to unravel while keeping their own supernatural secrets secure from the world? THREEQUEL to "The Secret": to be read after "Forthright".
1. Wishing On Stars

**Jasper's POV**

I was holding Catie in my arms, rocking her in the rocking chair that sat in the corner of her bedroom. It had been her mother's when she was just a baby. The little cottage was no longer a _little_ cottage. It had been renovated to meet the needs of a family of four, plus some, I should think.

I pressed the back of my hand against her forehead. It was warmer than it had ever been before. She was running a fever again, and no amount of medicine would be able to relieve her symptoms. It was times like this when all any of us could do was help her wait it out, for it wasn't a physical illness that gave her these pains. I loved being the one to hold her. I loved feeling how grateful she was for the comfort and how much she loved me unconditionally for taking care of her. Her pure, radiant feelings were like the gentle rays of light that penetrate one's body and reach deep into his soul.

"Unkie Jazzy?" she asked sweetly. Her big green eyes were bright, despite the high fever and the sweat dripping through her auburn-blond curls.

"Yes honey-pie?"

She didn't say anything, but wrapped her arms around me more tightly.

I remember when this condition all started just a few days after the girls had turned three. Catie fell down the stairs and was delirious. Brook was sprawled on the floor upstairs in a catatonic state. Edward and Bella were out that night helping Jake and Jen get ready for their wedding. Alice phoned Bella right away and the pair rushed home. Edward, after having rushed over to Brook's body, could sense that she wasn't in it any longer. She was… somewhere _else_. We weren't able to move her to a bed or anything because her body became impossibly heavy. Try as we did, no one could move her. Edward followed his daughter's thoughts to find that her body may have been in the hallway, but her mind was in the office. She must have had no idea that she was _outside_ of herself, for she was running around, trying to play with the paperclips on Carlisle's desk, but was frustrated that she couldn't _move_ them with her hands. Well, that's because her hands weren't really with her in that moment. In sum, Brook was basically capable of what Alice termed _projecting_. She said it was something she'd heard of before, but that she'd actually never witnessed it for herself. Well, not until that night, anyway. Each time Brook _projected_, Catie fell ill. Brook never intentionally left her body; she didn't know how, but Alice was confident that she would learn to master her talents one day.

Catie's talent would also prove to be impressive… _someday_ when she learned to control it, that is. In the meantime it was literally a _nightmare_! Every time one of her little _spells_ would sweep over her, she would have all of us on edge. About a week after Brook's tendencies showed up, Catie's did too. She forced our minds to see illusions. What she wanted others to see, and sometimes _not _see, would literally be _grafted in_ all around and seem as real as anything else that was physically there.

Sometimes she only sees things by herself and she gets all overcome with fright. What she thinks she sees is real to her and she is still not quite able to tell the difference between what she thinks she sees and what she really does see.

One time she made everyone see Irena. No one was sure _how_ she could do that because we couldn't figure out where she would have seen her in the first place. None of us have seen her since before the girls were born. One day the image was of Irena holding a lock of strawberry blond hair. I could feel a confirmation of sorts from Edward and Emmett that the hair was the very same as the lot that Edward had pulled from Tanya's head the day we watched her burn. We searched the property high and low for that lock of hair, but it was decidedly gone. Catie must have been illustrating a subconscious memory from when Irena took it. We were able to determine that the memory must have been from when she was really young- even less than a year old, because she also remembered Brook crying as Irena made a face at them. From the onsie Catie's sister was wearing in the memory we all witnessed, Alice was able to track that the girls were somewhere between nine and ten months old. In fact, Alice remembered every scrap of clothing ever put on those girls' backs. In this particular instance, Alice's impeccable gift for memorizing outfits proved to have practical applications for which we were all truly grateful. The question remained, though, _why_ would Irena steal the lock of Tanya's hair?

Around two months after Catie made the memory that she would illustrate to us years later when her ability showed up, that was the day that Bella received a certain phone call. None of us _disbelieved_ for a second that Bella genuinely _thought_ she heard Tanya; however, we didn't know how that could be possible.

"_Are you _sure_ it was her?"_ Edward had asked.

Bella nodded her head, which was fixed with a terrorized expression. _"Y-y-yes."_

We didn't know what to make of it, so we put it aside for awhile. What else could we have done? Traced the call? We did that. The databases indicated that the number should not have even existed. Yet, it did exist. None of us had given it too much consideration until exactly one more year after the first call came. That's when _another_ call came in. It was confirmed: Tanya was somehow _among us_.

We came to expect a phone call from her every year. It's sad to think that hearing from that bitch is as embedded into the girls' traditional birthday routine as the cake and candles are. A few months ago, Catie and Brook turned five. It was the first time that Tanya had made actual threats since we thought she had been gotten rid of. Her _birthday calls_, as we came to name these strange instances, until this time, had been nothing more than her letting us know how much she hated us and hated the girls. For four years we tried to track where she called from, but never had any success. After the threats this time, we were brainstorming harder than ever to try to find a way to capture her again. The girls were always taken upstairs to play when the phone rang each time. It was not necessary that they should hear these things.

"_A little hell raised is a healthy sport," _Tanya had said. _"I plan on raising _plenty_, actually."_ She insisted she had a gift for Catie and Brook. Edward snatched the receiver without missing a beat and demanded that she stay the hell away from them. _"Or else_ what_?"_ she laughed. _"You'll _burn_ me?"_

The fact was that there was no limit to her ugliness. I felt everyone's fear as her wild laughter ceased abruptly. She was serious and honest when she boldly stated: _"I devote myself to their destruction."_

The panic that leapt through their mother's heart, _anyone_ could feel it; it wasn't just _me_ who knew Bella was genuinely shaken. She had gasped in shock and buckled over forward. Edward held her to his side with one hand and the phone in the other.

"_How?"_ he had asked. _"How is it that you are even alive?"_

"_Legerdemain,"_ she whispered.

That was the extent of her response. She hung up while laughing as selfishly and wildly as she had the day she was charred in oils and flames.

We researched everything about the word: its etymology; its cultural contexts the world over; every word that meant anything close to it; etc.

"_It means 'sleight of hand,'"_ Alice had said.

"_Not only that,"_ Carlisle had replied. _"It _has_ to mean more, if not something else entirely."_

Each day that passed us by was another failure until we could figure out what the hell _legerdemain_ meant. _  
_

"Unkie Jazzy?" Catie asked again. I noted that she felt extremely happy all of a sudden, which pushed away the stress that hovered over me when I thought of that awful word that had become the mystery and curse that engulfed my family's energy these last few months.

"Yes honey?"

I was desperate to figure out what was on her mind. What would make her feel such pure joy despite her physical ailment? If I could find the source of the feeling, then I might be able to help her feel this happy each time she comes down with her fevers.

She stared deep into my eyes and hugged me tightly.

"What's on your mind, pretty one?" I asked her.

"I was thinking about _those_," she said, pointing out of her window toward the stars.

"Yeah?" I chuckled. "What about them?"

"I like them."

"I like them too."

"Why are they there? And why are there so many?"

Why are the stars there? And why so many? I have to admit, I'd never really thought too much on it before. All of a sudden, I regretted not having majored in astronomy at some point. I would have given anything for the knowledge about them to share with her and make her happier.

"I think," I said, just in case I was wrong about any of this, "That there wouldn't be a sky full of stars if we were all meant to wish on the same one."

"Stars are for wishing on?" she asked with wide eyes.

"That's what I've heard," I said, not wanting to say yes but not wanting to say no either. "I think that people wish for things because they need help organizing their thoughts."

"Organizing?"

"Yes. It's when people have a lot of things and they need to put them in order."

"Like a puzzle?" she asked.

"Exactly," I smiled at her. "Yes, like a puzzle. You see, sometimes people have a lot to think about, so they need stars to help them decide what to do. People's wishes often tell you a lot about them. For example, if a man wishes for money or if a man wishes for his health and the ability to work, which do you think is the man who will end up making money?"

"I think the man who wishes to be able to work and be healthy will."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"Well…" she said, twisting her lips with thought, "Because he's the one who's going to work to get paid."

"That's right," I said. "I think Shakespeare probably put it best when he said that _it is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves_. You know who Shakespeare is, don't you?"

She nodded her head. "Mommy and daddy read Brookie and me things that he wrote a long time ago."

"How do you like his works?"

"I like them a lot. What are some other things he's said, Unkie Jazzy?"

"Well, he's said, _Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once_."

"Is that why you're so brave?"

"You… you think I'm _brave_?" I asked with a smile.

She nodded her head. "Mmhmm. I do. Everyone does."

"Well, this is the first that _I've_ heard of it," I teased.

"Nuh-uh. You know you're a soldier. Aunt Alice told me stories about all that."

"She has, huh?"

"Yeah! Will _you_ tell me one of the stories?"

"A story?" I asked. I thumbed through my memory, trying to find a war story that didn't involve… well, that didn't involve any actual _war_. I wondered if telling her about slaying men was really very age-appropriate. "What has your Aunt Alice already told you?"

"Um, she said that you were a Major in the Civil War. She said that you were in charge of a lot of men and that you kept them alive, for the most part. She said that you had a lot of patience for what you did and who you worked with. Later on that night, mommy was reading _Othello_ and it said, _How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?_ So then I wondered if _you_ ever had a wound, and I asked mom if I could ask you and she said it might be rude, but I really wanted to know. I guess I just thought that if you had patience _and_ a wound, then the quote would mean even more to us and it could be something we shared and things like that."

I sighed out a whistle from being deeply impressed. For being only five, she was such a clever little thing.

"You can go ahead and ask, darlin'. You can always ask your Uncle Jasper anything you please. Nothing you could ever ask would be rude in my book."

She smiled and asked, "Did you ever get a wound in battle?"

"I did," I said. "I received several, actually."

"How?"

"Well, I've been shot at and stabbed a few times, actually. They're not very pretty stories. Then, later on, I was involved in a sort of revolt in the South, and I'm not talking about the American Civil War anymore."

"I know," she said simply. "Alice kind of told me about that too. She said that you didn't know any better and that you had a rough appetite at the time. She said you used to drink human blood. She said all of the vampires in our family used to, except for grandpa Carlisle. She told me about it because Brook asked why Natalie and Samantha have red eyes. She said that some people choose to do it and some don't. She says that if other vampires choose to do things that give them red eyes that it's not up to us to force them to stop. But I wondered, what makes you _not_ do it?"

"My, my, cowgirl. These are some mighty questions you're askin' tonight. But since you wanna' know, I'll tell you. The reason that _I_ do not drink human blood is because I love your Aunt Alice so much. At first, she was the reason that I stopped. Later on, I realized that I _wanted_ to stop. I didn't want to feel what people were feeling right before I hurt them. I didn't like doing it, and that's what helped me fight the urge. The rest was just a matter of time. After awhile, it got easier and easier. It's still difficult for us, to be around humans when they're hurt and bleeding and all that. Their blood tastes to us the way a big ol' cookie tastes to you. If you saw one just lying around on the kitchen table, you'd want to eat it, wouldn't you?"

She nodded her head. "Of course I would."

"But what if you'd made up your mind to never eat a cookie again?"

"Why would I do that? Cookies are for eating."

"That's how some vampires see it too. Not having red eyes is a very difficult thing to accomplish. We can't sit and judge those who choose not to do it anymore than we can judge little girls who can't help but eat cookies. When we love someone and when they're a part of this family, as long as they don't turn on us, they are a part of us forever. And we love them, no matter what they choose to do _out there_."

Catie hugged me again, and I felt a warm burst of love sweep through the room.

"Unkie Jazzy? Does wishing on stars really make a difference?"

"Hmm, darlin'. Well, I can't see how it could hurt to try. Which one are you going to wish on tonight?"

"The one in the drawer," she said.

She hopped off my lap and went to her dresser drawer, returning with a bag full of plastic stars meant to be taped onto the ceiling.

"But these are plastic stars, sugar."

"And just as important as the ones in the sky, don't you think so?"

I smiled at her innocence and how beautiful her non-judgmental soul was. Truly, she was pure.

"What will you wish for?"

"I want mommy to be happy."

"Now, now, miss cowgirl," I said, scooping her back up in my arms and wrapping her in a blanket, for she was beginning to take a chill. She always giggled when I called her that. I loved it. "What makes you think your mama isn't happy?"

"I know she worries," she said, cuddling into my side securely, "About me and about Brook, I mean. I can tell that she does."

"Your mama loves you and only wants _your_ happiness. I think if you're happy, then she's happy too."

"But I _am_ happy. I want for her to be happy, and she's not."

"Your mama is the happiest lady I know. Just 'cause she worries a little doesn't change that fact."

"Well, I _wish_ daddy could find Tanya. That way he can kill her."

I was stunned: it took a moment for me to find something to say to that. "How do you know that's what your daddy would do?"

She looked around before whispering, "Brook heard him talking to grandpa Carlisle about it when we were supposed to be sleeping. She projected herself into his office. That's where she saw mommy worrying, too. She said mommy looked sad. It was the day we turned five."

"Now listen to me. You don't need to worry about any of this. I promise you that your mommy is happy, but if she worries, you have to let her. That's the way women work, I suppose. Just let her have her time to get her mind all situated."

"Does mommy need to _organize_ her mind, like you said some people do?"

I laughed. "Yes, I suppose we all do now and again."

"Can you help me put up these stars?"

"Tonight?" I asked.

"Yes," she pleaded. "That way mommy can wish on them too, and feel better soon. That way she can be _happy_."

I felt so proud of her sound reasoning, and again was moved by her pure motives. "Yes, Catie. I'll help you put them up."

I laid her gently in her bed and wrapped her in her covers. We spent the next few hours hanging them up- me tacking them to the ceiling of her bedroom, and her directing where each should go and what it would be called. At some time or another, she drifted off to her sweet land of dreams. Awhile later, Bella and Edward returned to the cottage with Brook, who was sound asleep in her father's loving arms.

"Where did she go off to tonight?" I asked concerning Brook, who had fallen into her motionless state in the kitchen this evening at dinnertime.

"She went into the woods," he said.

Bella began to sob and her fear swept over me. I could feel that they were _both_ shaken, but especially Bella.

"What is it?" I asked them both.

"She saw _her_," Bella whimpered. "She saw Tanya. Our enemy is closer to us than we imagined."


	2. A Distorted Crown

**EPOV**

"Where is she now?" Bella asked again.

"Just three or four miles away," I replied patiently.

She had asked the same question nearly fifty times, but I couldn't be cross with her for that. She was, after all, a tender-hearted mother who cared deeply for our little girls. If our circumstances were reversed and Bella was the one following Brook, I know for certain that I would be asking just as much, if not, more.

"Is it three or is it four?" she asked with concern. "A difference of a mile is a long distance for a little girl, and I don't like being off by an inch." None of us liked not knowing _exactly_ where she was, but I had to shrug my shoulders apologetically because the fact was that I just didn't know.

Bella, Esme, Carlisle, Alice, Emmett, Rose and I all sat around Brook, who once again lay sprawled on the floor. Alice and Esme had already cleaned up the shards of her plate and glass that shattered around her. She was carrying them to the sink to rinse them off when her little body fell to the ground, only to be separated for a time from her spirit. As far as any of us could imagine, that's what it must have been. Her mind, her spirit, or whatever one would decide to call it- it wasn't in there. She wasn't in her physical body. Yet, when she was outside of her body, I could follow her. Sometimes she would pass beside a mirror or a pool of water. If she would take the time to glance, she would see her reflection. How that was possible, I had no idea; none of us could figure that one out. However it may have happened, the fact was that when she stared into her reflection she was the same Brook in form. She still had wide brown eyes and long brown waves half way down her back. She looked as if she were her body and as her body grew or changed with time, so did her spirit. Each time I followed her outside of herself, when she noticed her likeness, I was in awe. All of this simply begged the question: _Was I, in fact, looking at my own daughter's soul? _

I watched where my daughter's thoughts took her. I watched as she walked alongside a slender, winding creek that wasn't too far from our home. Though how far she was along its way, I wasn't absolutely sure. She was moving southward presently, but that was all I knew at this point. She would stop every now and then to pause and look around at the trees or if she heard an owl hoot or the footsteps of a deer. She was a little afraid because she hadn't been this way before. She was wondering if she could find her way back, but she already knew that she would find a way. I wasn't sure how it happened, but when her body and mind were ready to reconnect, they just would. She would be pulled out of wherever she was and return to us, whether she wanted to or not. She hadn't learned how to willingly leave or willingly return yet.

Alice was working on coming up with ways that Brook and Catie could exercise their abilities. Her guidance and the emotional support and understanding of the family was invaluable for children in their circumstance, but even though they had more confidence in themselves now and learned to not fear when their talents "happened," they were still not able to consciously harness them yet. We all had faith that in time, they would grasp onto how to do it. Our faith in them gave them faith in themselves.

Alice and Rose wrapped their arms around my worried wife. They guided her to the couch in the living room so that they could try to take her mind off of the stressful situation here in the kitchen. Esme had moved into the living room already to take Jen's phone call. Jake's wife had called to ask her for motherly advice with her first pregnancy. Esme prided herself on knowing many valuable things as far as carrying children was concerned. Even though it was something that she was no longer able to do herself, she invested her time into classes and books to help the blossoming generation of mothers around her. Jen was due within the month. She was beginning to have a difficult time sleeping because her mommy-tummy had become so out of proportion compared to the rest of her body and the boy she was carrying kept her up most of the night with his nonstop kicking habits. Everyone else thought it was cute. To her, I guess, it was cute at first too. That was the first night. The following two weeks grew considerably less adorable to her as she lost much needed rest. I remember Bella's last month or so of carrying our girls. She was happy and excited, but also miserable and exhausted. I spared no expense in making her as comfortable as she could be and I learned to give the best foot rubs that anyone could ever give. To this day I am convinced that no one can give a better foot massage than me. Fact.

I felt Brook look upward suddenly. A noise had startled her, but she wasn't sure what it was. If she didn't know, then I didn't know either. The downside of looking through her thoughts when she wasn't seeing with her physical eyes was that if she interpreted something in a different way than what it actually was, that was how I would see it too. Her perspective was all I had to go on. One time she walked by a red chair in Alice's room, but in reality, the chair was blue. If she saw red, I saw red. Another time she walked into a grove of cherry trees, but the entire property was now an empty field. I couldn't determine what created the discrepancies. When she was three and four, I had assumed it was because she was so little. Now that she was five and understood more about how if something goes up it must come down and all that, I couldn't pinpoint why she still didn't see things as they really were sometimes.

I motioned to Carlisle and Emmett to go into the living room with the others. It would be easier for me to concentrate on Brook if I had complete silence around me. They gave me a hesitant look and wondered if I would be okay alone. "I'll be fine," I assured them, and motioned for them to exit again. This time, they complied.

As my daughter looked upward through the twisted ends of leafless trees, she noticed the moon coming out of the clouds. It shed light over the water of the creek, and she made her way to the edge to peer in at her _reflection_. She hopped over the creek and ran westward very fast. She stopped when she noticed the moon gleaming off of another body of water. This time it was a shallow pool of rain water that the level of the ground collected just so. She once again saw her reflection, but this time, there was another set of eyes staring back too.

"_Huh,"_ Brook gasped in shock. She was alarmed that someone else could see her reflection, since she wasn't really there. She was sure the pupils in the center of the red irises beside her were not just looking into the water, but into her own brown eyes. _"Can you see me?"_ she asked.

"_I knew you would come here one day, just like they said,"_ replied a sticky-sweet voice.

"_Just like _who_ said?"_

"_The others, Brook."_

"_You know my name?"_

"_We _all_ know your name, my little jewel. Here."_

The reflection of the strawberry-blonde showed that she removed a wreath of woven flowers from the crown of her head and was handing them to my daughter.

"_I can't,"_ Brook said. _"I can't touch anything. I'm not really here."_

"_Who says you can't touch anything just because you're not really here?"_ Tanya giggled too-sweetly.

Her reflection was beautiful and her laughter sounded like angels. Her soft, strawberry-blond curls swayed in the wind and her white skin shone like silver in the moonlight. How could my poor daughter _not _have been tempted to take something from someone who wished her so much strife? Indeed, the reflection of this creature was stunning and her smile was wide and dazzling.

Again, Tanya's reflection pushed the crown closer to Brook's reflection. She hovered the wreath over my daughter's head. My daughter reached upward and grasped two sides of the circle with her own small hands and placed it on her head. She smiled with delight when she saw her own reflection wearing the flowers and as she felt them on her the way she would if she were wearing them on her physical body.

"_They look very pretty on you,"_ Tanya said. _"Like a princess, huh?"_

"_They look prettier on you, I think. You are very beautiful."_

"_Reflections are not always what they seem to be. Turn and see for yourself what I really am."_

Slowly, Brook did turn. The heartbeat of her physical body quickened from the fright that her spirit felt when she looked upon Tanya's true form: Her real eyes were black, and void. If it were not for their shine, provided by the moonlight, they would have seemed void all together. Her hair was not lovely and tame as it had seemed to be in her reflection. In reality it was wild and all different lengths. She had scars all along her arms and up her neck and a deep gash on her left cheek. It looked as if chunks had been scraped away from her legs by fingernails and her right leg was literally sewn on at her hip. Her skin was not the pale porcelain it had once been, but rather ashen with a greenish hue to it.

"_You are afraid, just as you ought to be,"_ Tanya sneered at the little girl. Her laughter and smile were no longer her captivating features, for they had disappeared entirely.

"_Why's that?"_ Brook stuttered. _"What are you going to do to me?"_

Brook turned around to face the water again, preferring to see Tanya's beautiful counterpart rather than what she really was.

"_Do you know _why_ you can see your reflection, Brook?"_ Tanya asked indifferently.

"_No,"_ she answered the distorted reflection honestly.

"_Well, someday you _will_ know." _Tanya's smile was now cruel rather than delightful and her red eyes were narrowed in the water. I could see it because Brook could see it: Tanya was aiming for her. She was aiming for _us_. _"But for now, why don't you tell me about your sister?"_

"_Catie?"_

"_Yes. Catie. Why don't you tell me about _her_?"_

"_What shall I tell you about Catie?"_

"_Well," _Tanya smiled too sweetly, _"Why do you think it is that everyone loves her _more_ than you? Do you think it's because she's prettier than you? That's usually why grown-ups love someone more than somebody else: because of how they look. You know, I was once very beautiful. I am not anymore, and now no one will love me. I used to have anyone and anything I wanted, but not anymore. It's because of how I look. No one cares about who you are; only how you look on the outside."_

"_I look like my mommy, and daddy says she's the most beautiful lady in the world."_

"_Does he now? Well, then that means that _you_ are the most beautiful and not your sister, if you look just like your mommy. You should tell Catie that so she knows it. But I wonder… So why, if not for how you look, do you think it is that the others love you less than her?"_

"_I don't think they love me less than…"_

"_Oh, but they _do_. Maybe you should ask them why that is, Brook. Maybe you should ask them if they had to choose between you and Catie, who would they pick? In fact, be sure to do so, because the time will soon come when they will need to make that choice. Why don't you let your daddy and _'the most beautiful lady in the world'_ know that, okay? You can tell them that Tanya told you to ask."_

"_What are you going to do to us?"_ My daughter shivered as she asked.

"_Whatever I have to do, Brook."_

With that, Tanya ran. Brook stared once again at her reflection. She felt dissatisfied all of a sudden, with her brown hair and her brown eyes. Then she turned angry and tore the crown of flowers from her head and threw them into the shallow water. She made her way back to the creek and followed it up toward the main house. She passed the cottage on the way and peered into her and Catie's bedroom window. She saw her sister and Jasper hanging glow-in-the-dark stars across the ceiling as they laughed and talked. She saw him flip a finger through Catie's curly blond locks and tell her that he loved the time they got to spend together.

_They didn't even think to wait for _me_ to hang the stars,_ she thought to herself. _Does he like the time that they spend together more than the time that he spends with both me and Catie? How long has Catie known she is loved more than me? Why didn't anyone ever tell me before?_

She grew sad at the idea that her sister was more loved than her; an idea which was completely false. It was the seed of a lie that was beginning to plant itself deep into her mind, and I wondered at how we would ever erase it, or if it ever even could be erased. I slammed my fist through the wood floor in anger at what Tanya was trying to do to our family. She was trying to pull us away from one another, as she always had before. But this time she manipulating my children, and may hell swallow me whole if I was going to allow her to get away with it!

All of a sudden, I could feel that Brook felt a familiar pull, and she was brought the rest of the way back to the house, into the kitchen, and back into her body – all within a matter of seconds. She began to cry as she opened her physical eyes.

"Daddy?" she asked. "Who do you love more? Me or Catie?"

Bella and the others ran into the kitchen when they heard her tiny voice. They had already been alarmed by the sound of my fist hitting the wood floors just seconds earlier, and they looked around to see what might have been the matter; however, what the matter was – or rather _who_ the matter was – would probably be more than they could handle emotionally at this point.

"Brook, sweetheart! _Why_ would you ever ask such a thing?" Bella asked as she knelt beside her and hugged her.

"Because," Brook sniffled, "Tanya said you would have to choose. Who will it be?"

…

A/N:

Distorted: not truly or completely representing the facts or reality; misrepresented; false; twisted; deformed; misshapen; mentally or morally twisted

Crown: any of various types of headgear worn by a monarch as a symbol of sovereignty; the top of the head; the highest or most nearly perfect state of anything


	3. A Jewel in the Tongue

**BPOV**

It was enough already! I couldn't stand not knowing anymore. Was she just going to turn up one of these days? Was she just going to attack? Would she be alone or how many would she have with her? What was the nature of her attack going to be next time?

We had rushed Brook back to the cottage as soon as we were able to move her, which wasn't until she came to. I snatched Catie out of her bed and took both girls into Edward's and my bedroom and curled up tight with them. It was hard to let them go far these last five days, and by far I mean more than an inch past my line of sight. If anyone thought I was being too overbearing and weird, at least they were kind enough to keep their mouths shut about it. Not that I was the only one panicking and being overprotective. The rest of the family, including Carmen and Eleazar who came down from Alaska, the Wolves, Charlie, and definitely Edward. Not to mention, the Wild Cards had flown in. They moved their headquarters from Chicago to Volterra after everyone stormed the castle and overthrew the Volturi five and a half years ago. They were the first ones I thought to call that night after Tanya had accosted my daughter. They hopped on their own jet and were in town before the girls even woke up the next morning. It was comforting to have them around for additional protection.

The girls slept in the cottage at night, which was surrounded by all of us. The Wolves were on our property full-time now too, until we could find Tanya and get to the bottom of whatever vicious plot she was cooking up this time. Jen moved into our guest room so that she could be near Jacob, who insisted on leading the investigation with Edward and Carlisle. The Wild Cards were on the case as well. They were masterminds at thinking the way warped people do. They had a knack for that kind of thing. They were good souls, but what their minds were capable of wrapping themselves around made me want to throw up. I was glad that someone could be here to do that because I wouldn't want their job. Their talents made them a priceless asset to this investigation. During the daytime the girls would be escorted by all of us to the mansion where they had more room to run around, but they said it didn't feel that way because there were so many people around them all the time. We tried to be gentle in explaining that this was for their own safety, but without revealing to them just how much danger they were very well in. They didn't understand how sometimes there is evil in the world that is so monstrous that there just aren't words to represent those kinds of concepts. They were sharp. Not just for their young ages, but in general anyway. We knew they would be special. They were certainly capable of understanding the deepest sorts of logic and feelings, but I didn't want them to be exposed to what Tanya was – to what she represented. Their pure innocence was a treasure that I was convinced should be something that they get to hold on to at least a little while longer.

"We just got word from Volterra," Natalie said, entering the master bedroom of the cottage with homemade pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice from Esme's kitchen. "Do you think you can be snatched away for a second?" She glanced at the girls and gave them a smile and a nod. "Samantha and I would like to visit with you just outside. Alice and Rose can watch the girls and make sure they get their play clothes on."

"That's right," Alice sang as she and Rose hopped into the bedroom. They were putting on all the bells and whistles for the girls, who were grinning wide at their aunties. "We got you some very special play clothes today!"

"Swimsuits," Catie shouted with glee.

"Are we going to go swimming?" Brook asked excitedly.

"We have a little sun tent all set up on the patio with plenty of cookies for you to snack on after we all swim this morning," Rose laughed.

"The weather is especially nice today," Alice encouraged with a smile to keep the girls happy and playful as I exited the room and followed Natalie out the front door.

"What was found?" I asked.

"We've had Adalfieri on it all week," Samantha started, "And finally someone was found who can help us out."

"Some _one_?" I asked.

"Yes. A person," Natalie answered. "Not _just_ a person, but someone who is an expert in what has happened. Tanya was dead. Not just in the 'usual' vampire sense of the word, but dead and gone from this earth. Not even a vampire can survive being snapped and burned like that. But _she _did. And the question is _how_? We think we know the answer to that now."

Samantha gave Natalie a glance indicating she was too excited to not interrupt, so Natalie nodded her head and turned the talking over to her partner in crime, or in this case, investigation.

"Well," Samantha started eagerly, "From the description that Edward gave of her, she is in pretty bad shape. There wasn't a lot to go off of, as far as bringing her back goes. You see, all that was left of her was that scrap of hair that Edward pulled from her bitch-ass corpse that Christmas morning. I saw him do it myself. He kept it as a token - to show you and the rest of us all what he had done. It wasn't that people wouldn't believe it if he simply told them, but I know he wanted to reassure everyone that she was really gone at last. Well, the irony is that his keeping that token is what allowed her to come back at all."

"How's that?" I asked, wondering how in the world her hair could allow her to come back after the rest of her was charred to ash.

"You said that Catie showed you all a memory she made unconsciously as an infant, remember? She saw Irena. You said that she was holding Tanya's scrap of hair, right?"

I nodded my head.

"She must have used it to bring her back. There are _ways_, you know. Well, maybe you _don't_ know, but that's what we'll tell you. You see, we wondered why those three nomads were so happy to exchange Tanya for Marcus' crappy old head. Turns out that head held quite the gem."

"You mean he knew something about all this?" I asked.

Samantha and Natalie both laughed in unison and I felt like the only one left out of the loop.

"Sorry," Natalie apologized. "It's just that it's not only that he knew something, but his head literally contained a _jewel_. None of us could have known it at the time, but Marcus is actually quite famous. None of us _would _know it. We're all too _young_. Even Carlisle hasn't been around long enough to know why Aro would have wanted that old fartbag on his team."

"Marcus is ancient," Samantha interrupted. "Rumor has it that he's even older than Aro, actually. And he used to be involved in a society. I don't want to say 'secret society' because it sounds so cheesy and stupid and overdone at this point, but really, it would be the best way to describe it, all in all."

"Marcus was once called a _Truth Keeper_, but he is now known as a fraud. He wasn't strict to his order and got in a heap of shit when he let some stuff out that he shouldn't have," Natalie interjected.

"He studied at a little ol' building known as Bibliotheca Alexandrina. Ever heard of it?" Samantha asked. Her tone oozed sarcasm.

"The Library at Alexandria?" I gasped. It was shocking to think that I had once been in contact with a being who had been at the famous, and destroyed, library of libraries.

"Yup. But that doesn't even begin to cover how far back he goes," Natalie said. "That's just how he happened to run into a guy that we know."

"Wait," I said, trying to wrap my head around this bit of information. "He once ran into a guy you knew at the ancient city of Alexandria at the time when it held over half a million probably-one-of-a-kind books, or books that would become one of a kind as the other copies were destroyed? Who else do you know from _that_ time?"

"His name was Demetrius Phalereus, and he's not just _some guy_ or anything. He is the one who initially organized the building of the library. He studied under Aristotle personally and oversaw each of the precious hand-written scrolls made of papyrus. He was the one who developed the system used for tagging and storing them in an orderly way, actually. Not only was he a scholar, but he was a very creative mind. It got him into some trouble later, but now's not the time to go into all of that. Just know that he knew Marcus and he is on his way here right now."

"On his way… here? Now?" I asked. "Is he a…"

"Yup," Natalie said, rolling her eyes sarcastically. "He's a vampire. It's what kept him around during what would have been his lifetime. You see, he didn't exactly come from wealth, status, or anything of political sway. He was a genius and not everyone respected that. He was quite hated by most, actually. Almost everyone wanted him dead and many tried to make attempts on his life. I guess what they didn't know was that he was already dead! Ha! He had a way of getting his enemies off his back. I'll bet you'll never guess how?" she laughed.

"Eating them?" I guessed.

"Correct," Samantha nodded.

"You said that Marcus had an actual jewel. What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"Oh, that's the best part," Samantha laughed.

"You'll never believe this," Natalie joined in excitedly. "Okay, get this. You know how we have idioms, right?"

"You mean like _a little bird told me_?" I suggested.

"Or _scattered to the four winds_, _under the weather_, _fair and square_; all that kind of stuff," she offered.

I nodded my head.

"Well," she continued, "There's an ancient idiom that goes, _he has a jewel in his tongue_. Maybe you've never heard of it before – I sure as hell know I haven't – but anyway, it means that you're a suave bullshitter, basically."

"Or," Samantha said, "It means you have excellent persuasive skills in rhetoric."

"Yeah," Natalie agreed, "If you want to get all fancy-pants about it, then you can say it that way. But in a nutshell, that could be said about him for two reasons. First off, not only was he an excellent orator who could make masses do whatever he damn well wished but he literally _did_ have a jewel in his tongue. In his mortality – get this – his society used to slit the bottoms of their tongues open and put a tiny ruby inside. They'd sew them shut and literally have a fucking jewel in their tongues! Can you believe that? Anyway, Demetrius said that the stones were called _Resurrection Gems_ and that's exactly what they have the power to do. Those three freaking hippie lunatics must have known what they had when they took off with him, which would explain why they were so happy about it. Pisses me off when I think about it! Anyway, what you do is take the stone and boil it in water, then add whatever remains are left of whoever you want to bring back and, well, the rest, well you get it, right?"

"And that explains why Tanya's body is in such poor shape, too," Samantha said.

"Why's that?" I asked.

"It was taken from a part of her that was already dead to begin with. I mean, sure, her body was technically dead, but it would have been alive. Hair isn't ever alive. It's dead when it gets pushed out. She was taken from something dead, or, what I mean is that she was made alive again from a dead substance. That's why she's ashen and rotten and falling apart. I mean, hell! Her freakin' leg is _sewn_ on. She probably won't last long anyway. That's what Demetrius thinks, at least. She'll rot away and never be completely restored. But I guess that's just what you get when the rest of your ass-clown body is dust." She looked at Natalie who was beginning to giggle at the idea that _Tanya the Beauty Queen_ would never again be beautiful.

"So, what do we do now?" I asked.

"We wait for Demetrius to get here and tell us more about what our options are. Also, it wouldn't hurt to keep everyone we've got on standby, just in case. I mean, the fact is that Tanya is not just a crazy bitch who's out to kill, but she's a twisted mind who's out for pure revenge. She will drag it out and make it slow if she can. It's how she'll get her jollies," Samantha said.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she's one of those who turns out to finish her own self off if she can destroy everyone else she wants to first, you know?" Natalie said. "I mean, she'll never be beautiful again, and in the end that's all she wants. She can never have it back and I'll bet she'd rather not exist than be physically ugly. Never mind the unquestionable fact that she was never beautiful on the inside all that time, but she won't ever see it like that. To her, appearances were everything."

"True," Samantha agreed wholeheartedly. She looked somber and deep in thought as she nodded.

It gave me chills to think that Tanya would do that to herself in the end. I mean, I wanted her dead more than anyone else did, but to know was willing to go so far and bring so much destruction, and to consider that she literally valued nothing that she had left - well, it just made her seem all that more dangerous and insane. My fear grew by leaps and bounds at the thought how she valued _nothing_ in this entire world any longer.

"So _legerdemain_?" I asked.

"It's an ancient magic," Natalie said. "Everyone believed that all was lost when the Library was burned down to the ground, but what is kept from the world is the fact that Demetrius was there that night and he saved 187 documents. They were rare to be touched even back then. They were the ones that were never even kept on file, actually."

"What's in them?" I asked.

"I guess we'll have to wait until he gets here and see for ourselves," Samantha answered.

...

A/N: The secret society within this particular fic, and all that goes with it, is entirely made up. It is not based on any organization out there in the real world. I just wanted to make that perfectly clear before we get too far in. However, I have quite a journey mapped out and I hope you will be excited to go on it with me!

-Stephanie


	4. Demetrius

**EPOV**

He was certainly a strange man. He appeared to be in his late thirties, or maybe early forties. He wore thick-framed black glasses that he didn't really need and a suave designer suit. His dark, shoulder-length hair was pushed back so that it was out of his face. All in all, his overall appearance was that of a rich library geek with a chiseled jaw line.

A group of us were asked to come up to Carlisle's office. It was only Bella, myself, Alice, Jasper, Carlisle, Jacob, Adalfieri and the Wild Cards. The rest of the family was downstairs in the kitchen with Brook and Catie.

"Well, let me start by saying why I was so interested in taking this case," Demetrius began. "First of all, it is an honor to meet _you_," he said to Bella. "Additionally, there are some things you'll need to be prepared to hear. Not just as a mother, a father, and aunt, an uncle, and so forth, but there are things you'll all need to understand as academicians and as warriors. We are not up against a _usual_ enemy. This is Marcus we're talking about. He has allowed his reputation to lie dormant for thousands of years, but that does _not_ mean that his power is less potent than it ever was. In fact, it will only grow over time; not diminish."

"What do you mean by _power_?" I asked.

"That's a good question. I promise you I'll answer it in time. First, though, I _must_ make sure you understand that the information I am sharing with you is not to be leaked out to the world. Do I have your word that no matter how outrageous or ridiculous the stories I'm about to tell you may sound that you will do your very best to imagine them as reality? Because, in fact, they _are_ real. I will only ever tell you the truth. Will you _try_ to believe me in all that I say?"

We all looked around at one another and nodded our heads that we would try to believe him.

"Good," he said with a nod. "First, Tanya, as I understand it, has come to be a Perception Twister. There are many titles for this trickster-role around the world, mostly in ancient cultures. Creatures like these have the ability to twist others' perceptions as far as her appearance is concerned. She can do this in reflections and so forth, but _not_ in reality. Should you meet her face to face, she will have no choice but to appear as she really is."

That must explain why when Brook saw Tanya's reflection, it was beautiful; however, when she looked at Tanya in person, she was decrepit.

"You may be wondering how she came to have such a power? That would be fair to ask, and so I'll answer it now. It is likely that she is under the guardianship of Marcus. It is _his_ gem that would have brought her back, and that makes her his _property_. Marcus is proud with his own property. He would never do anything to harm what he owns, but rather, he makes what is his as grand as it can be. He may not be able to make her beautiful, but he might offer her another gift to try to make up for what he can't actually give her."

"And that is?" Bella asked.

"He has the ability to make those who are his property Dream Haunters. At the height of his previous reign, he used to do this all the time. Unfortunately - for him, that is - because he sent them off to war for his own causes, they were all slaughtered and destroyed. Yet, it is likely he would make another army of such creatures, if he thought he might have something to gain by it."

"What do they do?" Jasper asked.

"What do you _think_ they do?" Demetrius asked seriously.

"Haunt dreams," Jasper answered. "But that doesn't apply to _vampires_. We don't dream. We're protected from all that garbage, then."

"Don't be foolish," Demetrius scolded hotly. "No one is protected from these terrifying entities! They creep their way into a mind and appear to be in front of you. Even if you don't sleep she can get to you! If you let your mind wander idly or imagine anything at all, she can get to you. In the past they have been known to make you want to do terrible things to yourself. They make you believe that something is just around the corner, waiting to attack you. Or, they make you depressed and want to kill yourself. They are very convincing at what they get you to do, mostly because you are unaware that you are being attacked by something from the outside. They take on the form of your own internal voice and you believe that these are _your_ thoughts and _your_ ideas! In this way, they are very dangerous indeed. Never undermine what they may be capable of. We can't even know all that they are capable of because not enough people have survived their onslaughts to pass on any wisdom that experience might otherwise provide! Remember, these creatures are _very_ successful. No one is immune to them."

"How can we stop him from creating an army like this?" Carlisle asked.

"Another good question. Yes, I see why you would wish to prevent this from happening, but the truth is that it may be too late to stop such an uprising. I'm afraid it's been going on for over five years. All the while, you've been diverted. Tanya calls once a year. Is that correct?"

I nodded my head.

"On your girls' birthday?" he asked.

Again, I nodded my head.

"There is likely to be significance in that day. How long until your daughters' next birthday?"

"About half a year," Bella answered.

"That's not enough time," Demetrius muttered.

"Enough time?" Bella questioned. "For what?"

"For us to prevent a world-wide war from breaking out. Six months or so would never be enough time. If he strikes on a significant day, such as their birthday, as it is my personal theory that he will, then it can never be enough time to collect our own forces. We will have to rely on others."

"Who else is there?" I asked. "We have a large family. We have always taken care of ourselves in the past."

"In the past," Demetrius smiled. "There is more trouble in your future than you could possibly be aware of." He took out a scroll and unrolled it on top of Carlisle's large desk. "This is something I managed to save," he said, "When the Library was destroyed. Less than a dozen people have laid eyes on it since it was penned. It is the original copy. No other copy exists at this time and all of the others that _did _were forged with false information scattered throughout."

"It looks brand new," I said, touching the edges.

"It has that charm," he chuckled. "Yes, indeed, it _does_ look brand new."

"What is it?" Alice asked.

"It is _The Pillar of Enoch_," he smiled.

"Pillar of Enoch?" Jacob asked. "What does that mean?"

"_The Pillar of Enoch_ was a tower built by an ancient prophet, or so the story goes. This document describes what happened to that people before they _left_. They were taken away before the Great Flood came. They managed to escape a terrible fate."

"You mean, Noah's Flood?" Samantha asked. "Was that _real_?"

"That's not the issue at hand," Demetrius replied quickly. "What matters most now is who can help us fight the flood of combat and terror that is to come."

"How can we find others to help us?" Adalfieri asked. "Shall we begin recruiting other vampires?"

"That is the least wise thing," Demetrius answered. "Only those that you would consider your family, and no one else, may be trusted. Marcus may have already gotten to them. We wouldn't want him to catch wind that we're on to his very probable plans. Any leaks would be detrimental to our cause."

"What then?" Natalie asked. "What can we possibly do? Shall we go into hiding?"

"That won't be necessary if we can secure the help we need, as I hope to help you do. You see, it is essential that you remember that Marcus is not his own master. He is sworn into an agency. You know he was a Truth Keeper, but do you know what they do?"

We all shook our heads. We'd never heard of such an organization until he brought it to our attention.

"A Truth Keeper," Demetrius explained, "Is a good guy. Marcus _used_ to be a good guy. There was someone high up in that organization that began to lead faithful members away. He would deceive them. His true name was lost, but he came to be known as the Prince of the Power of the Air. Marcus is now a devout servant to _this_ rogue being. He is sometimes called Alpha Draconus. It is the name of the _Dragon Star_ as well. It is in the dragon constellation, and it used to be the pole star back in Marcus', as the _North Star_ is today. The earth has since shifted slightly, but those who follow the Dragon Prince still worship that star in honor of their Master."

"So, you're saying that these men have been around since before the earth shifted," I asked. "How long ago was it that the _Dragon Star_ used to be the pole star?"

"In 2141 BC, Alpha Draconus was perfectly aligned with North and with an altar," Demetrius answered.

"What altar?" I asked.

"There is a descending passage in the Great Pyramid at Giza, and back in that day, that star and that passage were so perfectly aligned with one another that if someone was at the bottom holding a mirror, that star would reflect that light."

"What does that mean about that pyramid?" Carlisle asked.

"It means what it's always meant, but which no one in the human race can remember because no living mortal was there at the time: it is the Pillar of Enoch." Demetrius took his time in explaining so that he could look each of us in the eyes as he spoke. "Yes," he nodded, "That's right. The Great Pyramid at Giza and the Sphinx were built long before the sons of Ham, otherwise known as the Egyptians, settled there. Everything built after it was patterned after these three units and the Sphinx, but nothing ever came close to it again because the technology was lost and because its function is misunderstood."

"What _is_ the pillar supposed to be?" Bella asked timidly.

"A powerhouse of sorts. They power the obelisks around the world: Egyptian, Assyrian, Axumite or Ethiopian, Ancient Roman, Byzantine, Keralian, Pre-Columbian, all of them, really. That's off base with our mission, however, and therefore I'm afraid these mysteries must remain mysteries for now. Back to answering your questions about _who_ can help us."

Bella nodded her head and asked, "Yes, _who_? I thought anyone outside of our family couldn't be trusted?"

"Well, here's another story for you to think upon," Demetrius said slowly. "Once there were the great Shepherd Kings; they were ruled by Hydra, the sister of Draconus. She was represented by a great snake, but one day the dragon overshadowed it. She went missing and has never been found. If we can find _her_, then we just might be able to get the help we need to save your daughter. She can heal her of any ailment. We need Hydra on our side and if she consents to help us, then all those who are pledged to her will come to our aid, and that includes the great warriors: The Shepherd Kings."

"Heal?" I asked. "What is wrong with our daughter that she should need to be _healed_?"

I glanced over at Bella who looked terribly nervous. I took her hand in mine to try to comfort her as we waited for his answer.

"This Tanya who is your enemy," Demetrius began, "Did she ever give your daughter anything to wear?"

"Not that I know of," I said.

"Think," he urged us all, "It needn't have been clothes or shoes. It could have been something as simple as a hat pin or a piece of jewelry. Anything of that nature would suffice her cause."

"Wait," I said, thinking of the wreath of flowers, "A crown?"

Demetrius looked down and shook his head. "It may be too late for your dark-haired daughter, but there may still be a chance to save the fair-haired one."

"It wasn't a crown of gems," I argued. "It was only some flowers tied together! Nothing more!"

"It will not matter," he said sympathetically.

"She didn't give it to her in person, though," I shouted. "Brook was outside of her own body when Tanya gave it to her."

"I'm sorry," he said without looking at me.

"What?" Bella asked frantically. "What does this all mean? Why is Brook in danger for wearing flowers?"

"It's not about her wearing flowers," Demetrius said, "It's about her taking a gift to wear from Tanya. Tell me, Edward," he said, looking at me at last, "Did your daughter accept the gift?"

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"Was your daughter the one to actually place the crown on her head?"

I remembered back to how Brook had reached upward and grasped two sides of that circle with her _own_ hands and how she smiled with delight as she placed it on her head.

"Yes."

"I am _very_ sorry," he said, taking his eyes off of me again as he searched for anywhere else to lay his sight.

"What will happen to our daughter?" Bella begged. "What will happen to Brook? She didn't know not to take it! She didn't know what she was doing. She's only five! What will happen? Please, tell me!"

"Mrs. Cullen," he said slowly, "You must _not_ allow your other daughter to take anything from a Perception Twister. Especially one that serves Marcus."

"You didn't answer my question," she wept. "You're intentionally not telling me what will happen!"

"For now, let us focus on finding Hydra. She is the one who can help Brook. No one else will be able. I'm sorry. It will do no good for me to tell you her fate. You will be better off wondering what it will be than knowing."

"Please," she begged through her tears. "You have no children, I presume? You don't understand how this feels!"

"You are right that I have no children. I never have had children. But your comment reminds me of another situation we need to solve. It concerns the son – some say _sons _– of Marcus. He is known to some of us ancient ones as the Father of Mischief. We mean that title to be something quite literal. Samantha? Natalie?" he asked.

"Yes?" they answered in unison. They were clearly anticipating something they would find enjoyable.

"Please, bring it in ladies."

They exited the office for just a moment and returned with a sealed metal box.

"Here it is," Natalie smiled evilly.

Samantha took a key from her pocket and unlocked the box. She opened it slowly. The head of Pahandus was inside. His eyes popped open suddenly and we all took a step back.

"Did you need something?" Pahandus asked with a wry smile. His eyes scanned the room and he spat at Demetrius when he saw him. "What have _you_ come for?" he hissed.

"The truth," Demetrius demanded forcefully. "I've come for the truth and the truth alone."

"What would _you_ know of the truth?"

"As a scholar all these centuries, I have taken it upon myself to discern what is fact from what is not. I have come to be quite wise with liars, as I wish I would have been back then. Needless to say, I might have put a final end to you and your father over a thousand years ago if I only had the experience back then that I have now! Then I might have..."

"Who?" Pahandus asked suddenly, interrupting Demetrius. "_Who _have you destroyed, oh enemy?"

"_All_ of them," Demetrius said shamelessly.

"Who have you destroyed?" Alice asked, too.

"He's destroyed all of my friends," Pahandus cried out. "He has been trying to find me for centuries. I have evaded his huntings in the past because of my father's help. Because he was a member of the Volturi, he was able to hide me away. No one knew I was the son of Marcus. Not even Aro knew that, and he still doesn't know. Demetrius thought that by destroying everyone dear to me that I would eventually face him to spare my loved ones. However, I love no one more than myself. So _why_ would I come out of hiding and risk being destroyed to spare the life of anyone? Oh, Demetrius, you are still the same fool you ever were!"

"And now you're but a head in a box," Demetrius laughed. "I don't see what the big deal is to you that they're all dead and gone now if you never cared for any of them anyway. And where is the rest of you, might I ask?"

"Burned," Pahandus spat.

"He's yours if you want him," Natalie offered. "You can finish him off once and for all."

"Why were you hunting Pahandus?" I asked our guest.

"Long before the Library at Alexandria there was another world library where many precious documents were stored. It included outlines of all the technologies of the very, very ancient ones. This bastard burned it to the ground. So many precious things were lost!"

"Then I burned Alexandria, too, when the time was right," Pahandus said proudly. His face twisted suddenly with a sick, twisted grin. "And if given the chance, I would burn the whole world down! It is in my nature to do it!"

"I'm not here to destroy you now, Pahandus," Demetrius said nonchalantly. "Not _yet_ anyway. Rather, I've come to ask a question. It's about Aro and Caius."

"Hmm," Pahandus said thoughtfully, "Yes, I see where you're going with this. In all these years, though, Marcus has not come for them. It _is_ in the nature of Aro and Caius to work for the opportunity to taste the sweet fruits of their revenge against those who betray them. Surely they see my father as such a one as that."

"And _your_ nature, Pahandus?" Carlisle asked.

"I only ever aim to stir up trouble and chaos, but at least I'm up front about that," the mischievous one said with a grin. "However, if you're asking if there's a possibility that Aro and Caius will lead you to Hydra, I would venture to guess the answer is yes. At this point they are probably desperate to destroy Marcus. They may desire to destroy all of you, too," he said, twisting his eyes as far as they'd go to gaze at many of us as possible, "But one thing at a time. They will help you destroy my father, but only so that they may have the opportunity to destroy every last one of you in the end."

"You're not off the hook, you little bastard," Demetrius warned. "All of the cooperation in the world from you can't bring back a single scribble of what you've destroyed in those libraries."

"I know," he grinned. "But, you know, I can't help but make trouble, even for my own father. I know those two will destroy him, but that's my own father's luck. After all, in five and a half years, he hasn't come for _me_ either! I've decided I want them as dead as they do."

"Gee, I wonder why he would leave you to spoil," Natalie scoffed sarcastically. "How could a day go by where he doesn't long for your company?"

"Well, that settles it," Demetrius determined. "The secrets of Hydra have been protected in this generation by Caius. His mother was one of the handmaids in her temple. She is deceased now, as she was never turned into a vampire. Her son has never understood her purpose in being released from this world, but she was wise enough to see the value in death. Before she died she passed the secrets of Hydra on to her son. He doesn't believe in Hydra, but that doesn't mean he can't lead us to her."

"Shall we go retrieve them?" Natalie asked.

"Yes. But only bring in one at a time, please. I'm interested in talking with Aro first."

Natalie nodded her head and left the room while Samantha locked Pahandus' head back up and took him out of the office.

Demetrius scanned through his ancient scroll as we waited for Aro to be brought in.


	5. Another Pack

**BPOV**

He was just as I'd remembered him.

His red, curious eyes were stained with his countless sins. It wasn't merely the liquid crimson that reflected his vices and wrongdoings. There was something deeper than the color. His eyes literally held the dangerous darkness that he desired so deeply to inflict on each and every one of us.

"I knew you'd need me one day," he whispered sharply as the lid of the metal box was lifted away from him. The gold that had once encased his head was beginning to fall away so that it was now little more than valuable dust. "I am not surprised, Demetrius, to see _you_ here now."

"Are you not?" Demetrius asked.

The two ancients stared at one another for a long while, as if reading each other in some strange way.

"Are you my enemy now?" Demetrius wondered out loud.

"From time to time, we are one another's most deadly predators, aren't we? Would you kill me if I said yes, Demetrius?"

"Yes, Aro. I would slaughter you."

"You are prepared to do such a thing? My memory contains hidden secrets that are written nowhere on or in the earth. You would throw away those things? You hold information in the highest regard, I know. I doubt you are so capable of destroying something as valuable as me."

"If you – what is left of your filthy vessel, I mean – are the only one to hold the knowledge you claim you have, yet give no evidence of, and if you are not willing to share it with the world to make it richer for your being in it, then what good is that information to me or to anyone else if it is being put to no more use than to aimlessly rattle around in that head of yours? I stand by my answer. I would _slaughter_ you, Aro. After all, you hold very little value in your moral character, and that is what I am more concerned with at this hour. I think you knew my answer before you asked your question."

"You are right," Aro said through twisted lips, approaching a smile. Yet the lips – still smeared with a thick layer of gold – were not quite able to achieve their goal. "I _did_ know it."

They continued to stare each other down for another few moments. No one in the room moved, not even to blink an eye or take a breath. Not even Jake, who required breath.

"Well," Aro frowned suddenly, still struggling somewhat against the metallic remnants that once encased his head entirely, "What is it you need from me then?"

"I've come to inquire about Marcus," Demetrius replied coolly. "He is a standing man now, but _you_ are not. I wonder why that is? How is it that one of your very dearest friends would turn his back on salvaging what is left of you and of Caius? A curious thing, don't you think so?"

"Hmm," Aro scowled, "Obviously, I cannot say _why_ Marcus has not come for Caius or for me. I've been trapped in a box for quite some time, you see, and I don't know how much you expect me to know about what goes on _out there_. You must have already figured that my knowledge of the present times is limited by being shut away?"

"I will not pretend to presume you know everything about what transpires in the world these days, Aro. However, I _do_ suspect you can shed some light on the nature of someone who sat by your side for over a thousand years; someone with whom you've shared a throne."

"You _know_ you can't trust me," Aro said, half-smiling wickedly. His eyes turned darker as they narrowed to thin slits. The expression made the gold of his face look brighter.

"Whether or not you will tell me the truth, you are right that I cannot know that for sure. As to whether or not I _would_ take your word on simple faith, you know I would not."

The way that they countered one another's each and every word and the way that these two were able to naturally know that the other was really saying more than what was literally said let on to the fact that they must have once been very good friends indeed.

"Would you that I should be your friend in this moment and then again your enemy in the next? You do realize that you don't get to pick which hours I am true and which I am false. Yes, I am disembodied and in a box, but I am still my own," Aro said.

"You were hardly honest even in the sporadic periods of time in which we called one another by brotherly terms. I've not forgotten the instinct you have at throwing me to the wolves in the Near East, you know," Demetrius replied.

"Still sore over that, are you?" Aro chuckled back as if to merely snicker over some practical joke among school boys. "It was always your weakness, old friend and bitter enemy of mine, to hold grudges." Aro's eyes turned not-so-cold for a moment as he did his best to scan his eyes around the room to look at each of us. "Your scholar-prince has friends everywhere, you see," he explained to us. "It was Demetrius who designed a way for me to get into foreign packs of werewolves. It was my intention to wipe them from the earth, but his heart grew soft – if you can believe it – and he began helping them escape. I rattled them up a bit when I spread rumor that it was his intention to use them maliciously. Then, they turned on him. They were not quick to think through the logic of my lies; they merely banished him from their presence. It was unfortunate for him, though, because his heart had fallen prey to one of the woman wolves. Lilly, was it Demetrius?"

"You remember her name as well as I," Demetrius glowered.

"No," Aro argued. "I'm afraid I do not fill my memory with those who _ought _to be forgotten. They are a filthy sort."

I heard Jake growl quietly at Aro's crude, ignorant comment.

"Others?" Carlisle asked. "There are _other_ tribes of wolves?"

"Yes, Carlisle. They were around generations before the Great Flood even," Demetrius said with a nod. "They are one of the most ancient kinds of creatures."

"There are not so many now," Aro chuckled. "I saw to that."

Jake let out another growl, this time a little louder.

"I see your friend is not without offense," Aro said to us all in regards to Jake.

"Wiping out an entire culture because you have no interest in them or because you are insecure and threatened by them in some way only magnifies your already cruel and senseless nature, Aro," Demetrius said through gritted teeth. "They did nothing to offend you, yet you aimed your means of destruction directly at them. You may have little regard for life, Aro, but you should choose your actions with more wisdom. Jacob Black, aside from being a creature who shape-shifts himself, is like the rest of us, I'm sure, in that he is offended due to the principle of the matter."

"The _principle_ of the matter?" Aro released a powerful laugh, which surprised me. Such a bellowing sound coming from only a head ought to have been impossible. "You who parade around, putting on your pompous airs? And for what, exactly? What right do you have to be so proud of yourself, Demetrius?! The only ideas that were ever truly your own were all bad ones. Don't try to get away with being so impressive. You plug in all the logic, but you never move with feeling. What you lack, friend and enemy, is passion. That's your issue, pure and simple."

"And _your_ issue, or should I say one of _many_ issues, is that you are no more than a tattered old head, Aro. Look at where all of your _good _ideas got _you_!"

Aro's triumphant smile faded and he pursed his lips. "True," he conceded. "And yet, here you are, begging me for information. The irony really is rather delicious, don't you think so?"

"If I heard correctly," Demetrius continued, "You borrowed a little idea yourself, didn't you? Tell me: who was it that persuaded you into thinking that stealing Isabella away from the Cullens was a wise choice?"

"Pahandus," Aro snapped hotly.

"Yes," Demetrius nodded. "Can you tell me anything about the mischief-maker?"

"All that is left of him now is his head, much like myself," Aro answered.

"Yes. But do you know where he came from?"

"He is not terribly old. Not nearly as old as Caius, Marcus, or me."

"Well," Demetrius smiled, "I can tell you he's definitely not older than Marcus. Would you like to guess why that is? Maybe I should just let you think on it for awhile?"

"More riddles?" Aro asked. "Can you never ask a direct question? How is it that you always expect a direct answer, hypocrite?"

"Oh, I never _expect_ a straight answer from _you_, Aro." Demetrius turned to the Wild Cards. "Put him away girls. His interview is over for now."

Aro narrowed his eyes as the lid that kept away from him all light and all sound closed over him. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of information that head contained. I knew from his interview that it contained at least one thing that might be of some importance: the knowledge of another pack. What were they like? Where were they? Were they wild or civilized? Could we acquire their skills? Would they be willing to help us defeat Marcus? So many questions that I feared there would never be time to have answered. It was unlikely that Aro would be willing to share such valuable information with us.

"Shall we unlock Caius?" Samantha asked Demetrius with a mischievous grin accompanying her inquiry.

Natalie unlocked the box that held his head just as soon as Demetrius gave a nod.


	6. Mirabel

**BPOV**

_"Shall we unlock Caius?" Samantha asked Demetrius; her mischievous grin accompanying her inquiry._

_Natalie unlocked the box that held his head just as soon as Demetrius gave a nod._

As soon as Caius saw Natalie and Samantha, he cowered and shut his eyes tightly. He was obviously afraid of them.

"Caius," Natalie whispered sweetly, "We have need of you today."

"Please," he whimpered, "Please, shut me away again. I can stand no more of your devices."

"We're not going to torture you today," Samantha said, "But rather, if you are on your best behavior for our guests then we will give you a little reward."

"Reward?" Caius asked suspiciously. "Guests?"

He opened his eyes and scanned them around the room. He couldn't see Jasper, Alice, and Adalfieri, who were out of his range. He couldn't turn his head, after all, since he had no neck. He could see Edward and me, Jacob, and Carlisle, along with Natalie and Samantha of course. His eyes scanned over Demetrius last, as the scholar took a moment to step into the overthrown king's view.

"_You_," Caius scowled when he saw Demetrius. "I have no information to give a _traitor_."

"Traitor?" Demetrius asked, pretending to be surprised and hurt by the use of the term. "Well, I don't know about that. What would you rather be subject to, Caius? My questions or the Wild Cards' torture devices?"

Caius cowered again, shutting his eyes tightly and then letting out a wail. "I want neither," he screamed.

"You're going to have to choose one," Demetrius pointed out quickly. "You wouldn't want to give up your reward, would you?"

Caius opened one eye. "What's the reward?"

"You'll have to wait and earn it before you can know what it is," Samantha said with a smile. "But believe me, you'll want it."

Caius paused a moment, weighing his options. For the amount of time it took, I couldn't help but wonder why he thought speaking with Demetrius would be such a terrible thing. Surely it couldn't be as excruciating as being mutilated over and over again in a dank dungeon cell by two wild, creative minds such as Natalie and Samantha?

"Alright," Caius said at last. "I'll talk to you."

"Very good choice," Demetrius said. "I don't need to know much, but I need you to be as thorough as you can be in answering the questions I ask. I only have a few of them."

"What are they?"

"Well, first off, what can you tell us of Hydra?"

"Hydra?" Caius snorted. "Why should you assume that I have anything to do with that old witch?"

"Your mother, Mirabel, was her handmaid," Demetrius said casually. "And you were the benefactor of one of her miracles."

"Miracles? I don't know that I would call it a _miracle_."

"What would you call it then, Caius?"

"I don't know how she fools others into believing in her power, but I know this for certain: she has _not_ fooled _me_. Not in the least."

"Did she not take away your blindness?" Demetrius asked. "Were you not born blind? How many years before you saw the spread of light against the physical world?"

"Seven. I was seven before I saw a single thing."

"And you wouldn't deem the gift of sigt a miracle?"

"I would rather have been blind all my life than lose the nurture of my mother at so young an age. Perhaps you forget that Hydra sacrificed my mother just days later?"

"Sacrificed?"

"Yes! She slaughtered her!"

"She allowed an ill woman to die. I would hardly say that constitutes slaughter, Caius."

"If she has the power she claims then why coudn't she have saved her most loyal servant? There was none equal to my mother in love and degree of service. There was nothing my mother wouldn't do for that hag. She mistreated my mother by leaving me orphaned. My mother wouldn't have wanted me to go through what I had to endure."

"Perhaps your mother understood that she was dying and that nothing could be done for her? Did you ever consider the possibility that she wasn't meant to be saved by anyone? Hydra granted Mirabel, your mother, her dying wish. She wished that you, her son, would be able to get along in the world, and so you have. You were taken care of."

"The only time I ever laid eyes on my mother is when her life was sucked out of her," Caius countered. "What was the good in returning my sight only to see such a terrible thing? I would rather that _I_ had died that day."

"Her life wasn't _sucked out of her_," Demetrius argued. "You are implying that she was murdered in some way. She died of natural causes, Caius. _Natural_. It is not in Hydra's power to rob Nature."

"No? But she gave me back my sight…"

"It is in the nature of a child to see the world. In your case she was restoring Nature, not robbing it."

"It is also in the nature of a child to have a mother."

"You had a mother for many years. Don't hold such bitter hate toward such a glorious being. She could take away your anger if you would be willing to converse with her."

"No," Caius said firmly. "I'll not be caught talking to that _dog_. I would rather be tortured than see Hydra."

Demetrius tilted his head for a moment, considering that to be a possibility. There was a long pause before he spoke. "I take it then that you would not be willing to guide us toward her? I presume you know where the remains of her temple lie?"

"I know where they lie, but I refuse to go anywhere near them. That temple is where my mother died. It's where she was _sacrificed_."

"She can tell you things you long to know. She favors you, Caius."

"The same way she favored my mother? Yet she did nothing to save her! I'm not interested in that sort of favor, Demetrius."

"For so long as people have lived in this world they have questioned the purpose of their existence. Are you not interested in hearing what that purpose is for you, Caius? Or what it was for your mother? It is the power that such knowledge contains that your mother held dearly, and she learned it from one you call a witch. She served Hydra faithfully because of her desire that you would one day have the opportunity to serve as faithfully as she did. Hydra can teach you things. She would give answers to you freely because she loved your mother dearly. She would accept your service."

"Do you want these answers for yourself, Demetrius? Is that why you insist on seeing Hydra?"

"No," Demetrius shook his head, "I already have them. I've already been taught these things. I was only thinking of you, dear Caius."

"Why must we have a purpose?" Caius asked. "Why must we know why we are here? I don't know what drives others to search for such meaning, but as for me, I believe there is no grand point. There is only what we can see, and all else is lost to us forever."

"I know that you are lying, Caius. To both me and to yourself. I know you want to have these answers. It's why you followed Aro for so long. You believed he knew these answers and that he would share them with you. Is that not the truth?"

"I was a fool then, but I'm not anymore. Look at me, enemy! Look and tell me what you see! I've been reduced to nothing. I am nothing now and I have no control over my life. I cannot choose where I go or what I do. I can't even say what I really think out loud for fear of being tortured! When the cover of the metal lid goes over my head I am as blind as I ever was. I see nothing, and I hear nothing as well now. I will hear nothing else. Least of all from Hydra!"

"That doesn't mean that life doesn't have a purpose, Caius," Demetrius said, this time speaking with much compassion. "How you are being treated is how you've treated others for so long. Can you not see the humor in that you are receiving what you have given?"

"No," Caius scowled. "I see no _humor_ at all."

"Take us to Hydra," Natalie said sternly. "Take us there and we will give you your freedom."

"Freedom," Caius whispered.

"Freedom," Samantha confirmed. "If you will guide us to those temple grounds and lead us to Hydra, then we will let you go free. We really have no need of you any longer. And besides, Aro is so much more fun to torture. The way that he argues and hisses and throws out a fuss… well, it's not like _you_. You've just given up. We think you're finally at a stage where you can be let go because you truly know that you are nothing special, and maybe you'll think twice before dishing out torture on innocent victims?"

"Will you think twice?" Natalie asked. "Have you learned your lesson, Caius?"

His eyes went wide with the prospect of freedom looming so near to him now.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Yes, I've learned. But I fear Hydra. I fear the emotions that will be stirred up in me when I lead you there. All I remember from my humanhood is how my mother looked when she was dying. She didn't sound herself, and she was in so much pain. I've been bitter for as long as I've existed because of that scene, and I don't know that I will be able to endure the torment of it all."

"You're going to have to man up," Natalie said. "Sorry to put it so bluntly, but this is the only thing we'll ever need of you and if you don't deliver, you stay right where you're at. You have no guarantee that an opportunity like this will ever come along for you again."

"That's right," Samantha agreed. "It's time to give it all, Caius. We've all got baggage, but we've also got a job to do. Do you understand that your emotions will mean little to us as you are pressed to your most extreme moments? You must take us to Hydra and that might mean facing her for yourself."

"What my dear sister is trying to say," Natalie broke in impatiently, "Is that we don't give a two craps about your _feelings_. We don't have time to. When you're a free man then we'll give you some credence, but until then you're still our property and we expect the most out of what we have. I don't want to hear your whiney _I-can't-do-it_'s and whatnot. We just want to get to Hydra. At this point, we don't care what it costs."

"I understand," Caius said.

"That will be all, then," Demetrius said. "We will unveil you when our journey begins, Caius. Until then. Ladies?"

Natalie and Samantha came forward with the metal lid and locked him away. He took in a breath and let out a long sigh as he was being covered.

"Well, sounds like our journey is drawing nearer. I'm glad he agreed," Demetrius said.

"Oh," Natalie laughed, "We promised you that you wouldn't have to worry about him saying yes. No matter what it took, we would have gotten a yes out of him."

Samantha nodded in agreement. "We always get our way when it comes to these sorts of things."

"I can see that," Demetrius said. "Well, I'll be happy if someone would show me to my quarters. I know I don't need to sleep, but I do like to be alone for some time each day and reflect upon the scrolls I read."

Natalie and Samantha were the first to leave. They took the boxes with them. Alice and Jasper were soon to follow, leading Demetrius toward one of the guest rooms that had been prepared for him by Rose as we held the interviews with Aro and Caius. As I was about to flow out of the room with everyone else I noticed that Edward and Carlisle hadn't budged. I gave Edward a kiss before I left the room, being the last of the crowd to go. He knew I was shaken by the news of hearing that Brook would need Hydra's help. I was terrified at the idea that she would be harmed in any way, and I knew he was in just as much agony. But there was hope. We would just have to find this Hydra woman that Demetrius spoke of.

"I love you, Bella," I heard Edward whisper as I closed the doors to Carlisle's office behind me.

"I love you too," I replied as I walked down the hall toward the stairs. "There is hope to save her," I whispered as I made my way to the stairs, knowing that he would hear me.


	7. The Best Sometimes Forget

**EPOV**

"_What did you make of his commitment?"_ Carlisle asked through his thoughts as Bella left the room.

"I cannot say that I believe him," I replied honestly.

"_Nor can I,"_ he thought.

"I think he's looking for a chance to get out of the box without being tortured. I think that if he can make an escape that he will."

"_I agree with that,"_ Carlisle said. _"Though he wouldn't get so very far, would he? He's only a head now, after all."_

"I wouldn't say that he is without imagination though," I said. "Just a head he may very well be, but he tends to find ways to weasel out of things. He is limited in what he can do for himself. However, I wouldn't put it past him to have someone working for him on the outside."

"After all these years?" Carlisle asked out loud.

"It hasn't been very long, Carlisle. It's been less than a decade. When one has lived for thousands of years, what do five or six really mean?"

"True. You make a wise point. But _who_ would be out there waiting for him, and how would they be able to communicate? I wonder…"

I shrugged my shoulders. He stepped toward his window and looked out into the darkness.

"How are you holding up, son?" he asked, turning around to face me.

I shrugged my shoulders again.

"With Tanya and Marcus both out there, and both actively against us, I have to admit that I'm worried, Carlisle. I don't know that I'll be able to protect my family from all the dangers that surround us now. I can feel something coming for us, but it's not as simple as saying that _someone_ is coming for us. It feels stronger than that, and mysterious. And with only Caius – our enemy – to guide us to some strange source of power that I've never heard of to help cure my daughter of something that I don't even know is wrong with her – it's only that I can't say that I trust Caius to do it. I don't believe that he'll lead us to her. I wonder if he'll lead us into a trap instead."

"I can feel it too – that something dark is out there watching and waiting," he said, turning to look out of the window again. "But I'll tell you now Edward that if someone or something is coming for you and your family then they are coming for all of us. None of us will stand by while you, Bella, Brook or Catie are in danger."

The support and warmth that I felt coming from my oldest friend relieved me somewhat of the pains that naturally surround a man when he has reason to worry.

I reminisced of a Christmas day before my daughters were born. I remembered carrying the strawberry blond lock in my pocket up to this very office. Aside from Bella, and of course Emmett, Jasper and the Wild Cards who were there on the scene, Carlisle was the first to hear the news.

"_Carlisle," I had greeted him as I entered the room. _

"_Edward, Merry Christmas!" I remember how bright his smile was that morning. "What brings you up to my office? Shouldn't you be around the tree with the family?"_

"_I could ask the same of you, Carlisle," I chuckled. _

_He chuckled back in reply, and although we seemed to be making fun small talk on a day where no stress should have penetrated the walls of our home, the truth was that I was sick with fear of how my father-figure and dear friend would react to the section of hair that I had pulled from Tanya's head. I was worried that he would be disappointed in me for taking revenge on her the way that I had, and I was afraid of having to break the news to her family – to admit to them that I was the one who had killed her._

"_Is something the matter, Edward?" he had asked. He could always sense when something was off with me. He didn't have to read my mind to know when I was troubled the way I had to read his. He was the one I couldn't hide these things from, aside from Jasper, of course, who always knew exactly how everyone was feeling at any given time._

"_I…" I hesitated, meaning to say yes, but not wanting to break the news on Christmas morning. I didn't want to ruin the entire day for him. Christmas Day was always his favorite day each year._

"_You can tell me what it is, son. Have a seat," he said, motioning to offer me a chair in front of his desk._

"_I've done something," I started, not sure where I ought to go from that point. "I've done something that I fear you won't be pleased with. I know our natures regarding how to react to an enemy are very different. I know you are more controlled than I, but…"_

"_When you say 'enemy,' you mean to say…"_

"_Tanya," I clarified._

"_Go on," he prompted._

"_I am not so in control as you, Carlisle. I haven't the gift for mercy that you have."_

_He sat down in the chair behind his desk and crossed his hands, leaving both index fingers straight, bringing them to his chin to ponder on my words as he leaned back in his chair._

"_Mercy," he chuckled lightly before his face grew stern with thought. "It is only in our best interest to show mercy if that mercy gifted is in the best interest of all the people," he said to my surprise. Did he know what I'd done to her? Could he tell without my having to say it?_

"_Carlisle, I…"_ _My voice cracked and faded. I literally didn't have words to tell him that I'd slaughtered Tanya in a most violent manner just hours earlier. _

"_From the deepest desires often come the strongest hate," Carlisle said with a knowing glare. "Tanya believed that she loved you, though I would argue that she didn't understand what pure love really was. Yet, she did believe that she deserved you and that Bella didn't. From those premises comes her motivation to destroy your wife, Edward. To destroy Bella. And your instinct is to protect the woman you love by any means you have available to you. That being said, we find ourselves in the present circumstance."_

"_The present circumstance…" I whispered._

"_Yes. The one wherein you've removed the threat to your wife. I assume that's the predicament we're in?"_

_I nodded._

"_Don't cast your eyes downward, son. You have nothing to be ashamed of." My head sprung up to look at him as he continued, "If Tanya was left alive then it wouldn't have been in the best interest of the majority. She is an enemy who would never stop until she got what she believed she wanted. I am proud of you for your willingness to protect your family, Edward."_

"_You are?"_

"_Yes. I am. In your situation I sincerely believe I would have done the same. I would have torn apart and killed the threat. I assume you burned the remains?"_

_I nodded. "I have this," I said, pulling the lock of hair from my pocket._

"_Why do you keep it?" he asked._

"_To show Bella. To show the others. I want them to be assured that she is gone. I don't want them to worry anymore."_

"_Your word would have been enough. No one would believe you to lie about such a thing."_

"_Thank you, Carlisle. I know my word would be enough. But I wanted to have something to show them, nonetheless. I want them to be able to know for themselves."_

"_Perhaps that is why your word is so solid? If you have proof then you always show it."_

I never would have kept the trinket if I'd known what it would bring us. I had no idea that it would – or _could _– be used to bring my enemy back. I should have burnt it as well, but I'd left it lying about until Irena came and stole it away.

"_I wish one thing, though," Carlisle had continued that morning._

"_What's that?"_

"_I do wish I could have seen her burn."_

_I was shocked that those words came from his mouth. I was already surprised that he would be proud of me for my actions, but this seemed too great a gift of understanding from him now._

"_What?" he asked. "Can't I have passionate feelings too? Am I not human, or was I not once one?"_

"_You were once one," I answered._

"_And in many ways, I am one still. So are you, Edward. That is what we forget about ourselves, I think."_

"_What's that, exactly?"_

"_Men are men; the best sometimes forget. We were born human, Edward. That's how we came into this world and that's what we were designed to be. Along our way, as we were making our way to die, our bodies altered so that they were no longer subject to the pangs of death. In turn, we had to surrender other parts of our humanity for a season. But we've made choices, this family of ours. We've agreed to abstain from human blood, and in so doing we've restored a large part of our humanity. But just because other vampires do not abstain from human blood doesn't mean that they are completely without humanity. They are still prone to all the weaknesses and prejudices of the mind. They are still prone to intimate attachments. They still enjoy humor and have desires the way men and women do. Even though they cannot die human, they were still born human. For mercy has a human heart; and cruelty has one too. Both derive from the human senses, son."_

"_What of an enemy like Tanya? Would you argue her to be human as well?"_

"_I tell you this, my friend, that there are people (men and women both, unfortunately) who have no good in them – none. There are people whom it is necessary to detest without compromise. There are people who must be dealt with as enemies of the human race. There are people who have no human heart remaining, and who must be crushed like savage beasts and cleared out of the way. And I do not doubt that Tanya was one of them."_

"_What of other enemies that shall come among us?"_

"_Let me ask you this, Edward: Can you do an immoral thing for moral reasons?"_

"_Are you meaning to ask me if the end can justify the means?"_

"_What wouldn't you do to protect your wife? What wouldn't you do to protect your children?"_

"_Nothing," I said sternly. "There is _nothing_ that I wouldn't do."_

"_What if the end is their safety and well-being?"_

"_Anything would justify that."_

"_Anything?"_

"_Anything."_

I was drawn back to the present moment as Carlisle turned from the window to face me again. He moved to sit in his chair behind his desk the same way I had found him on that Christmas morning several years earlier, with his index fingers propped up against his chin, deep in thought.

"What will justify the healing and protection of your daughters?" he asked. Had he known what I was thinking? Did he realize the terror that stretched up my spine as he asked the question most parallel to the one he had asked on that Christmas morning?

"Anything would justify that," I reaffirmed.

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"We must think on what our enemies will be capable of, Edward. Their hearts are far removed from them and they will not likely be swayed to offer us mercy, should we happen to be captured by them."

"Knowing this, then, I would say we likewise offer them no sort of mercy."

"I agree," he said, nodding his head sharply. "But we have an advantage over our enemies, you know."

"How is that?" I asked.

"We understand that they are not more than a human can be. All the evil or all the good that we or they hold the seeds of reaping and sowing, all of these things derive from our most intimate human emotions. And we, son, understand human emotions well, don't we?"

"Men are men," I said with a smile.

"Yes," he nodded. "And the best sometimes forget."

...

A/N: _Giving credit where credit is due - _

"But men are men; the best sometimes forget" (Shakespeare's _Othello_, Act II).

"Mercy has a human heart," and "Cruelty has a human heart" (William Blake's _Songs of Innocence & Songs of Experience_, respectively; these two sayings are from poems that are one another's counterparts).

"And I tell you this, my friend, that there are people who have no good in them – none. That there are people whom it is necessary to detest without compromise. That there are people who must be dealt with as enemies of the human race. That there are people who have no human heart, and who must be crushed like savage beasts and cleared out of the way. … And I do not doubt that this man – whatever they call him, I forget his name – is one of them" (Charles Dickens' _Little Dorrit_).


	8. Secrets, Secrets

**Catie's POV**

"There, there sweetheart," Aunt Rosie comforted us. "Your mommy and daddy will be back very soon. They are speaking with a guest in your Papa's study."

We were being forced to eat green beans again. Brookie held her nose as she gobbled them down. She swore that if you can't smell them then you can't taste them. I decided I'd give that idea a try.

"Stop that, girls," Nana Esme laughed. "They're not bad for you. If you eat them peacefully then we'll make you some of your favorite ice cream."

"Strawberry," I squealed.

"I already froze the strawberries," Nana smiled.

Brookie and I loved how she mixed them with yogurt and sugar and vanilla in her blender. With her promise in mind we quickly choked down the green beans and chugged our glasses of milk.

"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Aunt Rosie asked.

"Only because I was pretending the green beans were ice cream anyways," Brookie chortled.

"I was pretending that too," I admitted.

"You girls," Nana smiled.

Aunt Rosie let us carry our own dishes to the sink. We loved to help wash them, but she insisted that we let her do it. She didn't want one of us to accidentally get cut or anything. She and everyone were always going on about how important it was that we never get so much as a scratch. When we asked them why, they always brushed the subject off. Even though I knew we were little, compared to everyone else anyway, I knew that we were always treated with delicate care. It felt wonderful to be so loved by everyone all the time.

But sometimes we had to keep certain secrets. For example, Nana Renee wasn't allowed to know about the family. Papa Charlie tried to explain it by saying that she wouldn't be able to understand why we were all so different from the other people in Forks. Different in what way, I couldn't say. No one ever explained exactly _how_ we were different. I've never caught on to anything strange going on around in our house, but that's how all the grown-ups thought.

I did know that the wolves phasing wasn't a usual thing. Most people in the world didn't believe that sort of thing existed. That's what Aunt Jen said once, anyways. I also knew that Papa Carlisle was really, really old. But aren't all grandpa's old? I noticed once that daddy didn't have a heart beat and I asked him why I did and he didn't. He said something about his body being different from mine because of something that got mixed into his blood a long time ago. He said it wasn't a terrible thing to have it mixed after all because it allowed him to live long enough to have me in his life. But if it wasn't a bad thing to have his blood mixed with it, then why didn't he mix everyone's blood with it?

"One scoop or two?" Nana asked.

"Two!" Brookie and I shouted together.

"I knew it," Nana giggled.

"Like we even have to ask," Uncle Emmett laughed.

We knew that his coming into the kitchen meant that it was getting close to our bedtime. He promised to carry us to our beds on his back. I loved it when he pretended to be our pony. He was always so much fun!

"You girls almost ready?" he asked us.

"I don't think I want to go to sleep tonight," Brookie whined.

"Yeah," I agreed. "You never have to sleep, Uncle Emmett."

"Correction," he smiled, "I never _get_ to sleep. There's a big difference."

After we finished eating the ice cream as slowly as we possibly could – both to make the delicious taste last longer and so that we could postpone our bedtime as long as the grown-ups would allow – Uncle Emmett carried us to the cottage on his back as promised.

"You forgot to make the horsey sounds," I reminded him as we came to the front door.

He looked around at all the wolves who were guarding our cottage and kind of winced his face a little. I think he didn't make the sounds because he didn't want them to hear him do it.

"Please?" I asked him as sweetly as I could.

He looked around one more time and shrugged and laughed.

"Neighhhh," he whinnied for our pleasure.

"More!" Brookie encouraged.

"Neighhhhhhhhh!"

I could hear the wolves cackling through the trees as we entered the cottage.

We giggled as he and Aunt Rosie tucked us into bed. We kept asking them questions that we didn't even care to hear the answers to just so we could stay up a little later.

"And why do bees have yellow stripes?" I asked.

"Or do they have yellow bodies and black stripes?" Brookie questioned.

"And why do they have those little stingers?" I asked before anyone could even answer either of our previous questions.

"I heard that if a bee stings you, then the stinger breaks off and it dies. Is that true?" Brookie asked, her question nearly overlapping mine.

"Okay girls," Aunt Rosie hushed us. "It's time for bed now. Your uncle and I will be just outside in the living room. We will wait here until your mommy and daddy get home, okay?"

"If you need anything, just come and get us," Uncle Emmett said with a wink.

"But _only_ if you _really_ need something," Aunt Rosie qualified his statement. "You must try to get some rest for tomorrow. We have a big day planned for the two of you."

They both smiled at us and gave us hugs and kisses before turning out the lights.

"I love you girls," Aunt Rosie said as she closed the door behind her.

"We love you too," I whispered back. I knew she could hear it, even though it was only a tiny whisper.

I don't know how much time passed before I fell asleep. Usually when I sleep, I can't tell exactly where I am or what I'm doing. This time, though, I knew I was in my room and that Brookie was there too. She was standing next to my bed.

"Brookie?" I asked her, rubbing my eyes, even though I knew I was sleeping.

"Come on," she said, offering me her hand.

"I can't," I said. "We shouldn't go get Aunt Rosie or Uncle Emmett unless we really need something. Don't you remember that she said?"

"Who said we were going to get them?" she asked with a playful grin. "Come on. Give me your hand. Please?"

I put my hand in hers and all of a sudden I was standing beside her. I looked down to see my body sleeping underneath me, right beside hers. We walked through the living room and out the front door, and even though we could see our aunt, our uncle, and all the wolves in the woods as we made our way through them, none of them could see us.

"Where are we going?" I asked. "How are we moving? How did we get through the door without opening it?"

Brookie laughed and said, "Silly sister. Don't you know what's going on? You're moving with me the way I move all the time. We're not in our bodies. Didn't you see them lying there on our bed? And that's how come we didn't have to open the doors. But we can't just move through the walls. There _has_ to be a door, you know. That's how we get out of a room. It must be through a door or through a window or something like that. But only really real bodies have to actually _open_ them."

The wind was blowing in the forrest and our hair was blowing in the wind, but I didn't understand how the wind could be affecting us since we weren't actually in our bodies.

"As for where we're going," Brookie smiled, "That's a surprise. I'm taking you to one of my favorite places. I used to come here all the time when I was littler. That was back when no one kept track of where I was going. Once daddy realized I could leave my body, he started following me. Now that he's in Papa's office, he won't be able to know where we've gone."

"Why don't you want daddy to know where we're going?"

"Because, Catie! Some things are secret."

"Mommy says that secrets are things you regret later on," I argued.

"Really? Then why is everything we do and everything we are one big _secret_? Haven't you ever wondered why we have to be careful what we say around people who don't live with us? How can they tell us to not have secrets of our own when they are so obviously hiding things, even from us?"

"What are they hiding from _us_?" I asked.

"There are things they don't tell us. There are things they don't want to say, I think."

"Like what?"

"Like when I asked mommy which of us she loves more and she didn't answer. Why wouldn't she just say it? She paused before she said she loved us both the same. But I don't believe her."

"I believe her," I said.

"Well, you're not likely to not believe her. After all, you haven't been taught the things that _I_ have."

"What things have you been taught, Brookie?"

"Things I'm going to teach you now," she said.

She grabbed my hand more firmly and we changed the direction that we were heading all of a sudden.

"This way," she said. "I'm going to introduce you to my friends. They said they wanted to meet you. I promised them that I'd bring you to them just as soon as we could get away together."

"Friends?" I asked.

We glided into a clearing in the woods. The moon was just above the smooth, large circle clearing in the tall grasses.

"Brook?" called a tinkering voice. "Is that you, lovely?"

"It is," Brookie called back to the voice. "Come play with us! I've brought my sister."

"Is your daddy with you?" asked a tender man's voice.

"No," she said. "I promise he's not here. He couldn't have followed me because he was in my Papa's office when we left. He doesn't know where my mind can wander if he doesn't catch me leaving."

A red headed woman, a man with long blond hair and a man with black hair stepped forward from the trees.

"Ah, that's a good girl," said the red head. "And, as you promised, you've brought your dear sister. Hello there," she said, smiling at me.

"Hi," I said, taking a step back. Brook gripped my hand and jerked me forward to stand beside her. I was uncomfortable being so close to strangers.

"Have you ever traveled with your sister this way before?" the man with black hair asked.

"No," I answered. "This is my first time."

"And what do you think of it?" asked the blond man.

"I don't know," I shrugged.

"Let us introduce ourselves," said the red head. "_I_ am Victoria."

"I am James," said the blonde.

"And I am Laurent," said the man with black hair.

"I'm Catie," I said.

"Yes, we know very well who _you_ are," James smiled. "We've been looking forward to meeting you. Tell us, please, if you can – do you know why your sister is able to travel the way she does?"

I shrugged my shoulders no.

"And why, I wonder, is it that _you_ cannot travel this way?" said Victoria. I felt she was waiting for me to answer the question.

I shrugged my shoulders again.

"Your sister can move about in this way because the gift is in her mother's blood. You both came from the same mother, even at the same time," Laurent said, "And it is because your mother has Jacob Black's blood in her that she can pass this gift on to her children."

"My mom doesn't go anywhere like this," Brookie said triumphantly. "Only _I_ do."

I was surprised at her. Was she _proud_ of herself for this?

"Your mommy is an Alpha," Victoria said with a smile. "Perhaps she doesn't yet realize what that can mean for her?"

"What's an Alpha?" I asked.

"You know Jacob, right?" James asked.

I nodded my head.

"Well, he is an Alpha," James continued. "He is someone who is in charge of the pack of wolves that he leads. He shared his blood with your mother a long, long time ago to keep her _alive_ in a way. He did it to prevent your mommy from becoming like your daddy when your daddy bit her, and also so that your mommy would be able to have you two someday."

"Does that mean my mommy is in charge of all those wolves, too?" I asked.

James laughed and nodded.

"Yes," he said. "She _is_ in charge of them even more than Jacob is, actually. But she doesn't know that yet. Apparently, no one knows."

"Except for us," Brook said proudly. "And I've kept it a secret, just like you've asked me to."

The way her face lit up when they smiled at her made me afraid for her. I don't know why, but I didn't think they were the right kind of people for us to be trusting. I certainly didn't want to keep secrets from mommy or daddy.

"Can _you_ keep the secrets too, Catie?" Laurent asked.

Everyone turned to look at me, and I was nervous.

"I… I don't know," I said. "I don't really _want_ to keep anything from my mommy or daddy. They promised that I can tell them anything and that I'd never get in trouble just so long as I'm always honest with them. I know they prize honesty above everything else in the world, and…"

"She can keep them," Brookie interrupted me. "You have my word that she can keep her trap shut about all these things."

"Keep my _trap_ shut?" I asked. What had gotten into my sister? She never spoke to me or about me that way before.

"These three are our friends," Brookie said, glaring at me. "If you love me at all, sister, you will keep these things a secret for _my_ sake. I invited you here to meet my friends because I trusted you. You don't want me to not trust you, do you?"

"No. I want you to trust me."

"Then keep your lips locked about them, will you?"

"Uh…" I felt the pressure in her stare, and I tried to move back a step, but her tight grip around my wrist held me in place. "Okay," I finally said, so that she would loosen my wrist even just a little.

"We have a special treat for you, Brook," James said.

"Because you've been such a good girl," Laurent added.

"You've brought someone for _us _to meet, which we just _knew _that you would, so in turn we've brought someone for _you_ to meet. Say hello to our lovely friend," Victoria said, motioning toward a beautiful figure emerging from the woods.

She was beautiful, like a princess. Her skin was tan, even though I knew she was a vampire like the other three were, and her eyes were light brown. Her hair was long and black and wavy. Her nose was petite but her lips were full. Even though her eyelashes were very short, they seemed to make her eyes wider. Her brows were perfectly placed and angled just so. She had a beauty mark below her right eye, off to the side a bit. In all, she was exquisite.

"Hello," she said with a Spanish accent. "I am very happy to meet you girls. I have actually heard so very much about you. It pleases me to see you, and to know that our secrets are safe with you."

"Hello," Brookie said. "I'm Brook. This is my sister Catie. She is here because I've brought her. I'm the only one in my family who can move around without my body, or at least, I'm the only one who knows how to do it. I figured it out all on my own when I was just a little baby."

"That is very good," the new stranger said with a dazzling smile. "You are very talented, Brook."

Brookie beamed with pride at hearing her words.

"What is _your_ name?" I asked the new woman.

"Maria," she said. "I am allies with your three friends here. We work together to lift up our king."

"Your king?" I asked.

"Yes," Brook said. "His name is Marcus."

"Have you ever met Marcus?" I asked my sister. "How do you know he is our king?" I tried to whisper the words to her secretly, but I knew they could hear me no matter how quietly I tried to make my words. The irony was in that I couldn't keep secrets from _them_, even though I wanted to, yet they would have me keep secrets from those who I wished to tell everything to.

"I know because my friends have told me so, and I know I can believe them," Brook said with her nose in the air. "We're going to help them."

"How can we help?" I asked. "What are we to do?"

"All you have to do," Maria said, "Is come visit me as much as you can. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Brook nodded her head quickly in reply, but I didn't nod mine.

"I'm sorry," I told Maria. "I think you are very beautiful, but I don't know if I _want_ to see you again. I don't like coming here and I don't want to come back. I feel like something… _dark_ is here, and I don't want to be around it."

"Is that so?" Maria challenged me. "Well, then we shall have to teach you a lesson so that you'll know."

"Know what?" I asked.

"You must learn, little one," Victoria said, "That if you help us then you are safe. But if you are against us, then you are our enemy. And you don't _want_ to be _our_ enemy, little one. I'm afraid we have to hurt our enemies."

"You can't hurt me," I said. "I'm not even _really_ here. My body is back in my house where I left it."

"Don't try us," Maria said, slapping me across the face.

Her nails dug into my cheek as she slapped me, and I felt my flesh cut open. Brookie let go of my hand all of a sudden and I flew back into my body through the same path that my sister had led me down. The return only took a few seconds where getting there had taken so much longer.

I woke in my bed and screamed from the pain I felt on my cheek. I brushed the back of my hand against the fresh cuts and saw blood everywhere. It wouldn't stop flowing out of my skin.

"Catie!" Brook screamed from the bed beside mine.

I looked over and saw that her face had fresh scratches too, and blood.

"What happened to us?" I asked her.

"What have you done?" she screamed at me. "Why couldn't you have promised to keep the secret? You'd better keep it, or else they'll come for the both of us, and this is just a little thing compared to what they'll do to us when they actually get us!"

My stomach dropped as I realized that she was right. Victoria had said that if we're not willing to keep their secrets and that if we're not willing to help them then we are their enemies. She said that they _hurt_ their enemies, and I didn't want to be hurt like this again. I knew I'd have to never speak a word about this to anyone.

All of a sudden, the lights were on and Uncle Emmett was at my side and Aunt Rosie beside Brook.

"What's happened?" Aunt Rosie screamed. "What happened to your faces?"

They covered their noses with their arms and stood up, backing slowly out of the room. There was pain on their faces, both from something about our blood and because I knew they didn't _want_ to leave us. The wolves from the forest had phased back into men and they ran into our house wearing only their sweatpants.

"Go," Uncle Embry said to Uncle Emmett and Aunt Rosie. "We'll clean this up."

"Girls," Uncle Quil said nicely, "Can you tell us what happened?"

He was looking at me, straight in my eyes.

I shook my head. "I don't know," I stammered. I looked at Brook who was glaring at me. "I don't _know_," I said more assertively.

No one could ever find out about this. Especially not mommy and daddy.


	9. A Curse and Hope

EPOV

"What's the matter?" I asked Carlisle. We were running through the yard and to the cottage just as soon as we heard Rose screaming.

"Get back," Jacob shouted at me. He was holding us all back, except for Carlisle who he ushered through. "There's blood, Edward! I'm sorry, but your kind should stay as far away as possible right now."

His warning split my heart in two.

"Blood?" I wondered aloud. I looked behind me to see Bella, so I knew that it wasn't from her. That only left our daughters.

"The girls," Bella cried. "Let me through!" She was shouting between Quil and Embry – the only other wolves in human form. The rest were guarding all of the entrances to the cottage. Jacob gave them a look of approval and they allowed her to go through.

"I'm sorry," Embry said to me with a sad look. "We can't take any chances."

"How bad is it?" I asked.

"They're pretty scratched up," Quil answered. "But there might be just enough blood to set someone into a frenzy, and the last thing we need tonight is a war between the vampires and wolves."

I tried to calm down and decided that I would wait for a report from Bella or Carlisle. I concentrated on hearing Carlisle's thoughts. He was rummaging through a first aid kit that we kept in the kitchen.

"_I'll need more gauze,"_ he thought. _"And something stronger for stitches."_

Immediately I ran toward the house to get the needed supplies.

"You're right," I yelled over my shoulder to the wolves. "It is the last thing we need. Keep everyone back. Tell them to regroup in the living room and we'll try to figure this out together."

"Will do," Embry said. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Carlisle needs medical supplies."

...

Bella's firm clutch on the girls spoke volumes of the desperation she was feeling. She wouldn't let them out of her arms as we all sat in the living room together. They each had a few lines of stitches on their left cheeks to reunite the separated skin. We all knew the marks looked to be from a strong hand, but neither of the girls would talk about what had happened to them.

"It will do no good to grill 'em any further," Jasper said. "Whatever did that to them scared 'em so bad that they ain't gonna say a word."

"Girls," Rose begged. "Please. Won't you just give us a clue?"

I could hear from Catie that she desperately _wanted_ to give her Aunt Rosie a clue, but she kept singing "Ring Around the Rosie" in her head to keep me from hearing or seeing anything. Brook, on the other hand, was afraid that Catie would say something that would reveal a matter she'd rather keep secret.

"You don't want to keep secrets from us now, do you girls?" I asked. I sat down on the ottoman to face them as they curled into their mother's arms on the sofa. "You don't need to be afraid of us. But you might need to be afraid of whoever made those marks on your face. It is our job to protect you from all harm, but we won't know how to best do that unless you let us know what happened to you."

I saw Catie thinking of the woods, but nothing more.

Bella was crying. Esme placed her hand on Bella's shoulder to comfort her.

"Sorry I'm late," Charlie said as he burst through the front door. "What's happened?"

Jacob called him shortly after Carlisle stitched the girls up. What we all needed now was a sound strategy, and it never hurt to have Chief Swan's input on these sorts of matters. He was kept in the loop at all times, but it would take awhile to brief him on all of the things that we had learned today.

"We don't know," Bella managed to say through her weeping. "Is it something to do with the curse you spoke of, Demetrius?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm afraid that this is quite mild compared to what you would expect from the result of that poor little girl putting that crown on her head."

"Now wait a minute," Charlie said as he put his hands in the air and squeezed his eyes together. "What damn curse are you referring to, exactly?" He did have a limit as to how much he would absorb at once. He was familiar with our world, but this sort of magic was a mystery to all of us.

"It's to do with Brook's abilities," Carlisle answered very calmly. "It's more of a _condition_ that we are not fully aware of quite yet."

I hated discussing such serious matters in front of the girls, but they couldn't be kept out of our site any longer and we couldn't afford not to be as blunt as possible.

"What curse, daddy?" Brook's soft little worried voice was heartbreaking to hear.

"I'm afraid that when you put that wreath of flowers that Tanya gave you on your head, honey, it made it so that things might happen."

"I thought you said they were our _friends_," Catie blurted out hotly. "You didn't say nothing about no curse!"

"Be quiet," Brook hissed at her sister. She sunk back into Bella's side and pushed a pillow over her worried little face.

"Friends? As in more than one?" Jasper was quick to ask questions. I knew he could feel that they might crack now. "Who are these friends of yours, Catie?"

"I..." She looked to where Brook sat and I saw Brook move the pillow down and narrow her eyes at Catie.

"It's alright, darlin'," Jasper encouraged. "Look at _me_ instead. Tell me who your new friends are."

"They're just some people that Brook took me to meet in the woods."

"Brook _took_ you?" Rose asked. "But you never even left the..."

"I went with her outside of our bodies," she clarified quickly.

"I didn't know you could," Bella said.

"She _can't_," Brook shouted. "Only _I_ can!"

"You and mommy," Catie said.

"Shut up!" Brook's jealous yelling took everyone by surprise.

"I can't..." Bella started to say, but Catie quickly interrupted her.

"You _can_, mommy. Maria says so." She smiled triumphantly at her mother, pleased to give her this news.

"Maria!" Alice gasped. Her eyes were wide with horror. "Maria?!"

"The one with the Spanish accent," Catie divulged.

"That's _enough_," Brook snapped at her sister. "You're telling them too much! Now they're not going to be our friends anymore, and it's all your fault! I _hate_ you!"

Everyone stood staring at Brook, stunned by her sharp words.

"Brook," Bella said, trying to sound assertive but rather sounding hurt and confused, "What is the meaning of all of this?"

"You don't love me," she cried as she rolled over and pushed herself into the pillows of the sofa. "You hate me! And I hate all of you! I would rather _die_ than stay with any of you. You all love Catie more than me and you always have! You're all _terrible _people!"

"It is setting in," Demetrius said. "She doesn't mean the things that she says, but she will begin to believe that these thoughts are her own. That is where the danger lies. Do you hear it? Do you hear her telling us that she would rather die? If she really believes that she is the one thinking these thoughts then she will do anything she can to end her own life. This is far more hazardous than a swift blow to the face by a stranger!"

"I know her," Jasper announced. "I know Maria." He went on to explain to the wolves, Charlie, and Demetrius about the time he spent in the South slaving away under the command of Maria. He made sure everyone understood what a dangerous predator she could be. She would not only be out for blood – she would be out to murder for the mere pleasure she found in the abominable act. "It now seems that she has made an alliance with others who are very likely just as insane as she is, and is after the most precious members of our family."

"Who else was with you in the woods," Bella pleaded to Catie. "Will you please tell mommy? Your sister's life might depend on this, darling. _Please_."

Catie looked at Brook who was now pulling at her own hair, threatening to rip it out. Esme ran toward Brook as she started to take a swipe at Catie's face right where the stitches delicately held her sister's skin together. She pulled Brook off of the sofa as Bella pulled Catie away just in time. The wolves were all doing their best to control their urges to phase.

"Please," Bella urged, trying to coax Catie into giving us all more information before the moment passed. "Please tell us who else was with you and Brook, and ... Maria." She had a difficult time saying the name aloud. She knew full well from Jasper's chronicles how dangerous Maria would always be and I knew she couldn't imagine such a creature having sway over our children, especially to convince them to keep secrets from us.

"V – Victoria," Catie stammered. "And two men, too. I forgot their names."

Jasper, Emmett and I all exchanged concerned looks. We'd only ever come across one Victoria, and even then she hadn't revealed her name. She hadn't realized that I could read her thoughts and the thoughts of the two that were with her.

"James and Laurent?" Emmett asked. Everyone waited eagerly to hear Catie's answer.

"Uh-huh," she confirmed, nodding her head.

"The ones we traded Marcus' head to that Christmas morning in exchange for Tanya," Jasper muttered.

Brook began to scream uncontrollably all of a sudden, and writhed against Esme's sturdy grip.

"I will need to sedate her," Carlisle said very solemnly. "I'm very sorry, but it is for her own good. She will be a danger to herself and others in the state she is in. She is clearly not herself."

"Clearly not," Demetrius agreed. "But you can't keep her mind locked away with drugs for long, Carlisle. She will eventually be fully awake in her mind. And when her body wakes she will be more violent than a wild animal backed into a corner."

"We will figure something out," I assured everyone. "But for now..."

Carlisle ran up to his office to grab the supplies. "Bring her to your old room," he whispered to me. "Not in front of everyone."

Esme helped me hold Brook's arms tightly as we carried her up the stairs. Her strength was alarming. It was as if she had become possessed by some great force. We almost couldn't keep her from flailing away from us.

When we were upstairs, Esme and I held her down on a bed as best we could, but she was so strong that she would often free her hands and begin beating on the back of her head with her fists. We did all we could to keep her fingers away from her stitches and her eyes. She was aiming to blind herself or rip her stitches out of her face. I heard Bella and Catie sobbing downstairs.

"I love you, Brook, my little sweetheart," I said as Carlisle administered the shot. I hoped the drugs would work quickly, and I wanted the last words that she heard when she was conscious to be reassuring ones. "We are all here to protect you."

"I _hate_ you," she murmured sleepily as the drugs began to take effect. "I never want to see you again."

My heart tore to pieces at her words, and I had to remind myself over and over again that these were not really the words of my sweet little daughter. They belonged to someone else. Someone who hated me and her and all of us. Someone who would need to be found and be destroyed.

Carlisle and Esme looked at me with pity.

"It's okay," I said. "Those aren't her words."

"I know," Esme said as she rubbed my arms.

"I'm going to stay up here with her," I told them. "I'm going to watch her thoughts to make sure she doesn't go anywhere."

"Is she trying to go somewhere now?" Carlisle asked.

"No," I said. "She's completely out. How long will the drugs last?"

"It's hard to say with her," he said. "Her metabolism is very fast, to be sure. I've never had to sedate someone like her before, but that's only because, aside from Catie, there isn't anybody else I know that's like her. It might last an hour. Or, it might last five or six. I'm very sorry, Edward. I really can't be sure."

"I'll stay with you," Esme offered.

"And I'll go downstairs and head up the think tank," Carlisle said as he put away his medical supplies. "Don't worry, son. We are all going to figure this out together. We're all with you. We are all united in finding a solution and none of us are going to give up on little Brook."

"I'm so thankful for that," I said. "I'm so thankful for all of you."

Esme turned the lights down low and I took Brook in my arms. I wrapped her in a blanket and held her.

"Just like when she was a little baby," Esme said. I could see her mind running through the memories. "Time flies by so quickly, doesn't it?"

"It is something I'm afraid we're going to need a lot more of if we're going to hope to find a solution to all of this."

"There is always hope," Esme said encouragingly. "As long people love the way that we love those two little girls, there will _always_ be hope. Just so long as there is that sort of love in the world."


	10. To Dream

Carlisle's POV

"Things will not get better for your granddaughter, Carlisle, until they first get much worse."

I scanned Demetrius' face over twice as he spoke those chilling words. He had come into my office as I was putting the medical supplies away. He must have wanted to tell me something that he didn't want the others to hear. Perhaps what would lie ahead of my family would frighten them too much to hear for themselves right now.

"How much worse do you suppose it will get?"

"These are not mortal wounds we are dealing with," he said, speaking very quietly. "This is something else that most people never come across in ten thousand years."

"Have _you_ ever come across a condition like this before," I asked. Maybe it was something he'd only ever read about or heard of before. Maybe he had never witnessed anything like this in person, and so we would be basing everything we were supposing off of hearsay from one of his old scrolls.

"I _have_," he said. "Brook needs to be healed, Carlisle. She needs Hydra's magic."

"How can we find her?"

"It's not merely a matter of looking," he replied. "And it's more than that, even. She will need even _more_ than magic."

"What else must we provide?"

"You are all already providing it," he said. "For now." He began pacing back and forth beside my desk. He took a long while to think before he spoke. "Your family will begin to _fear_ that little girl," he said while he continued to pace. "That is when things will get very difficult for her. They will begin to question whether she is worth the sacrifices they must make to help her be restored. Hydra's temple is where we must go, but no physical road can lead us there. Were that the case then _anyone_ could stumble upon it at any given point. No – her temple is hidden and each must walk a certain path before finding it. But it cannot be found on one's own. A complete, dedicated group is required. From start to finish, whoever decides to make this journey, each person must remain united in the cause to save her. If even _one_ teammate loses temperance of thought and begins to feel that the cost of the journey is no longer worth the prize it merits then all is lost and the temple can _never _be found by any in the group who set out to find it."

"So you mean to tell me that the journey will not require trekking over high mountains and dry deserts?"

"It is far more dangerous than that, Carlisle. Testing how long you can physically persevere is not the point of this mission. For a vampire or a werewolf such a journey would mean very little indeed. Your mental strength and your emotional endurance – those are what will matter in the end. Each member will be tested very rigorously in these areas and one person's experience will differ from another accordingly. What can you _stand_, Carlisle? What can you _take_?"

"I can stand and take anything that will heal my granddaughter," I assured him.

"I know that is true." He stopped suddenly and looked to the door. "What about _them_, though? What can _they_ take? What can _they_ stand? Knowing that death and the death of loved ones, as well as facing many fears and other challenges, are very probable sacrifices that they will have to make, are _all_ of the members of your family, as a whole, strong enough?"

I stopped to give my answer to this question a long, hard look. I wasn't entirely sure that every single person in that living room downstairs could handle being pushed to their breaking point without snapping and giving up altogether. Charlie was only a mortal man in mind and character, and even though he would never die because of Tanya's venom and Bella's alpha blood, it was important to consider that fact that he had never wanted this sort of life for himself. His experiences in our strange world among the living dead were very limited and he was always afraid of what he would learn about us next, even though he did a very good job of hiding such fears. If he could go back and remain oblivious to this world of ours, he would be all to happy to do it.

Jacob and Jen were expecting a baby boy within the month. Would they be willing to sacrifice the security of their future, and that little boy's future, only to rescue the daughter of a very good friend? What of the Wild Cards? They were strong when they had the upper hand, but how well would they handle being the ones facing torture's devices? Might it come to that for them? Could I ask them to take such a risk?

"You don't know, do you," he asked. He did not sound surprised.

"I know that Brook is loved by every single individual in that room."

"Love is strong. Or, it can be. But will it endure through the kinds of trials that they will all face if they make this voyage? Can they press on for the sake of Love, even when it terrifies them? Or when it hurts them? When it causes them the bleed, or if they should feel their bones breaking in their flesh? Even vampires are _not_ immune to the risks that lie ahead, friend."

"How can I know who to invite?" I asked.

"Oh, that's simple," he said. "I'm afraid we don't really have a choice there. Anyone found under your roof come morning will be required to go. It will be one of the first steps in opening Hydra's magic. They must stay or go throughout the night willingly, but not be warned that if they stay then they must partake of the dangerous journey."

"What if they stay until the morning but are not truly committed?"

"Then I'm afraid you will have a problem."

I worried about who would stay. If I couldn't warn them, could I at least send them out on an errand? Maybe something as simple as having them go to the store to pick up a gallon of milk? Charlie would be the first one I'd send away, but only because I couldn't bear the thought of a mortal man suffering. And Jen. I couldn't risk the wellbeing of a mother-to-be. And then Jacob, her husband, who also just happened to be the leader of an entire pack of kids who relied on him for leadership. And then the rest of the Wolves. They were all so young and untested in their resolve. Could they really handle such a journey as this?

Before long I could find reasons to disqualify almost everyone from going. This might just be too much to ask of anyone other than Edward and myself. That is not to say that Bella and the rest of the family didn't love those girls just as fiercely as their father and I did, but would it be reasonable to put so many in danger? One's own worst fears could quite possibly kill someone for good. Why test so many if it wasn't necessary.

"This is what tests you," Demetrius said, interrupting my worried thoughts. "I'm sorry to intrude. I understand that I barely know you. But I can see your mind working." He walked around to my side of the desk and stood before me as he continued. "It is understandable. Since the beginning of your family, you have been the head of it. You feel personally responsible for every individual in this house right now, vampire, werewolf, and human alike."

"I do," I admitted.

"Each one, in his or her own way, is a part of this family. Of _your_ family." I nodded my head to agree with him. "So trust them, my friend." He put his hand on my shoulder, and I felt a great calm rush through me. "Trust them," he said again. "If they are not here in the morning, it is not because they do not love this family. It would not be because they don't care for the child. And if they are, even if it seems unlikely, they will have a fair chance at making it through all of the trials that come their way."

Something inside of me began to feel confident at his words. "I certainly hope so," I said.

"I will come with you," he said. "I am not afraid of the tests that will try me. I have been tried in similar fashion before."

"That is very kind of you," I said. "I wouldn't know how to get started without your knowledge."

"It is not so much _my_ knowledge that you require as it is Caius'," he said grimly. "I'm afraid we must depend on him."

"Do you trust him to be honest?"

"I would never trust him to be such under _normal_ circumstances. But where we're all going, it will make an honest being out of you if you ever wish to escape it. Whether or not he chooses an honest path, though, I guess that depends on whether or not he wants to return to the outside."

"Where _are_ we going, by the way?"

"Deep inside our hearts," Demetrius said as he turned to stare out of the large window. "That is the best that words can do to describe it, I think."

"How can Caius get us there? Why do we need _him_?"

"He knows the words we need to set ourselves apart and enter the quest. And the appropriate gestures to open the gates to the road."

"Gestures," I asked. "But he doesn't have any hands."

"He will in there," Demetrius said. His eyes narrowed, and then he looked at the floor. "He will be restored to what he _really_ _is_ in there."

"A full-bodied vampire?"

"No," he said, shaking his head slowly. "A blind man."

"And the rest of us?"

"As we were all truly born to be, so shall we be… in _there_."

I considered that idea for a moment. I had lived out my days as a vampire the best I could as a man. But to truly be a man again was a notion that I couldn't quite wrap my head around. What would all of that entail? Would my speed of thought diminish? Would it be possible for me to become physically wounded? And...

"Will I sleep again," I wondered out loud.

"Of course you will. How else are you to dream?"

"To dream..." I relished in the possibility.

"Or to have nightmares," he grimaced. "I suppose that depends on the sort of man you really are. Perhaps many of us will have nothing to fear. But perhaps others…"

For some among us I knew that living the life of a vampire was a hard business. The thirst was often overwhelming and when no self control was applied then appetites reigned. Some of us had red eyes – a sign of not exercising such temperance. If restored for a time to being a mortal man or woman, would the guilt from having slaughtered so many people be an overwhelming plague?

Would past demonstrations of not having self control be a sign of things to come? Would some fall short of high ideals and not be successful on the journey because they lacked the control to do so? Would they cost the rest of us to not make it as well? Would they cost us my granddaughter's life?

I paused a moment to feel for an answer. I knew that there was no other way available to us to save Brook's life. There was no other way to restore her to her full self, and I knew that I would be willing to sacrifice just as much to save every single one of those that I was asking to help me save her. And I had to hope that they would be willing to sacrifice for me the way that I was willing to sacrifice for them.

"If we don't make it…" I shuddered at my own thought. "If we don't find Hydra…"

"Then the worst will come for the child," Demetrius warned. "We must do all in our power to see that it doesn't come to that."


End file.
